


The Gap Widens

by FuryReina (ShadowRese)



Series: Mind the Gap [3]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV), The Gap Cycle - Stephen R. Donaldson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, Minor Character Death, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2017-12-28 21:24:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowRese/pseuds/FuryReina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part III of the Mind the Gap series finds Agron and Nasir separated. The men will need to fight both human and Amnion adversaries to find their way back to one another. Faced with impossible choices, Agron must make sacrifices and engage in a truce with an unexpected ally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A human vessel from Billingate has intercepted Nasir's escape pod, but are the people on board this ship even more dangerous than the Amnion? Meanwhile, Spartacus Warden, Director of the UMCP, has undertaken a dangerous mission and turns to an old colleague for help. Agron is in fear for Nasir's life, and is frantic to get him back.

Nasir

Enclosed in the escape pod as tightly as though it were a coffin, Nasir MornHyl could see nothing except the status screens on the inside of the lid. The monitors were there to reassure him, but instead only showed him that his heart beat too fast. His trajectory and velocity was preset, and the pads and restraints inside protected him. The life support systems cooled his body, and provided him with plenty of oxygen.

He was on his way to an Amnion vessel called Tranquil Hegemony, where he would be studied down to each individual strand of his DNA. Then, he would most likely be made into one of the enemy. Everything he knew about himself and the UMCP would be gone. His love for Agron would cease to exist.

The ejection pod carried him to his doom, yet he would go on fighting for his life until the very end. The Amnion would not get the scared, weak, docile boy they had seen on Enablement, but instead an even fiercer version of the one who hijacked Captain's Fancy and forced the aliens to return Captain Agron Niklaus to him.

Suddenly the pod began to veer away from the Amnion ship. Nasir could only stare at his screens helplessly as Agron rerouted the pod's course from the bridge of his ship. If the two ships were talking to one another, Nasir didn't hear it. Either the pod's receivers were tuned to the wrong frequencies, or the messages were being tight-beamed. The readouts began to update, and Nasir was able to see he was heading straight for Billingate. At his current speed, however, the impact would crush him to a pulp, and cause considerable damage to the installation. For that reason, the Bill might just decide to blast him out of space before he hit.

In a matter of minutes though, his screens informed him he was about to be rescued. A ship was coming towards him, from Billingate. The other ship matched his speed, took the pod into a hold, and clamped it down in order to bring it under control.

No matter how hard he tried, Nasir couldn't stop thinking like a cop. Regardless of the ship saving him from certain death, he knew they were still the enemy. Billingate served the Amnion. As soon as the sensors detected a breathable atmosphere, the locks popped and it unsealed itself, and Nasir found himself staring down the barrel of an impact rifle.

"Out," demanded a stern voice.

Instead of giving in to the dread that had settled in the pit of his stomach, Nasir pushed the muzzle out of his face, snarled a curse at the guard, and sat up. The man with the gun had slack features and vacant eyes, and the weapon wasn't a gun he carried. It was part of him, a prosthesis replacing his right arm. So, Batiatus employed bio-enhanced soldiers on his installation.

Slowly the man brought the gun back to Nasir's face, and repeated, "Out."

"Don't fucking rush me," Nasir growled, sounding just like he imagined Agron would, which is what he was going for. But he didn't hesitate to climb out of the pod. When he did, he realized the guard wasn't alone. A man and a woman stood maybe fifteen meters away, watching. They were bundled in coldsuits, designed to keep their body temperatures from plummeting in the frigid environment.

As he stood there, the man smiled widely, and then spoke out loud. "Now, here's a surprise. Don't you recognize him, dear?" he asked the woman in a tone of amusement.

"No," the woman said as she frowned. "Well, yes. But that's impossible. He's far too young. His son perhaps?"

Involuntarily, Nasir crossed his arms over his chest, attempting in vain to contain some of the warmth that was seeping from his skin at an alraming rate. He longed for the pod and it's life support systems that would protect him from the biting chill.

"They call me The Bill. What's your name, boy?" the man asked.

Teeth chattering from the freezing cold of the cargo hold, Nasir snapped, "Fuck you."

At that, the man walked forward and grabbed Nasir around his collar. "Listen to me. Hypothermia isn't bad as far as deaths go. You fall asleep, and nothing ever bothers you again. You can be sure I won't let you die that easily. I'm not that kind to anybody. So you can answer my questions now, or we can take you back to my installation, and try a little reconstructive surgery on you first. Now, what's your name?"

"Nasir," he coughed out. "Nasir MornHyl."

"Nasir, then. Why did you go to Enablement Station?" the man inquired.

The former UMCP Ensign could feel the chill threatening to send his consciousness on vacation. He was shivering, and soon he might not be able to connect one thought to another. What answer then should he give? What answer would Agron want him to give? He had no way to know, but he would give it his best shot.

I'm UMCP, you fucking bastard, he said silently. "They sent me. It's classified. Captain Niklaus was under orders."

"I don't believe you, you little cunt. I know there's something you aren't telling me. Right now, other people think you're very valuable, and I'm going to find out why before I decide what to do with you. Eventually, you're going to tell me. You're going to tell me what kind of game you're all playing at."

Nasir couldn't see the deck in front of him. He couldn't even be sure if his eyes were still open or not. Maybe he thought, as he collapsed onto his face, that had been the wrong answer to give.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spartacus

 

From inside his personal Command Operations room, Spartacus Warden watched Trumpet slip out smoothly. So far, the ship's departure was right on course. Not that he'd expected anything else. The idea that Ashur would diverge from his programming was inconceivable, and in any case, Milos would keep him in line.

The news bulletin Spartacus had released through Glaber's Protocol Division had announced Ashur's "escape", Milos "complicity", and had effectively burned Milos' bridges behind him. The former Deputy Chief of Capua Station Security had no choice but to cooperate.

If Spartacus' plan failed, "The Bull", as they called Crassus, would win. There'd be no one strong enough to oppose him. Spartacus had done too much to contribute to Crassus' power. This was likely the only opportunity he'd ever get to set things right.

From directly behind him, Sura Donner asked quietly, "Do you really think your plan is going to work?"

After a long moment, Spartacus turned to face her, and replied, "If it doesn't, I think The Bull will force me to commit harakiri."

Sura's eyes burned into his. Her face contorted in pain, and she took a step toward him. She placed her small hands on his shoulders, and whispered, "Then why are you doing it?" Swallowing down her grief, she continued. "You could have let me put a team together. I could have done the job, and rescued Nasir MornHyl in the process. That boy doesn't deserve to be abandoned to his fate. We never should have let Agron Niklaus take him. Look at the situation he's gotten them into. If the Amnion get ahold of him, we'll be responsible, Spartacus."

"Sura," he replied falsely, "the boy doesn't matter anymore. I know it hurts you to let go of him, but this is the truth. Billingate must be destroyed, and rescuing MornHyl would make Ashur's job even more difficult than it already is." The lie felt heavy on Spartacus' tongue, and he wished he could tell the woman he loved the truth. But he would protect her to the very end. When the dust finally settled, Sura Donner needed to be one of those left unscathed.

The ED Director turned away from him, and Spartcus cleared his throat to speak once more. "There is one more thing I need you to do for me. I need you to get in touch with Crixus Vertigus."

Eyebrows raised Sura questioned. "Crixus? You mean Captain Sixten Vertigus' son? He walked away from the UMCP: what do you want him for?"

Crixus Vertigus was a man much like his father. A man who had his own ideals and wasn't the kind to compromise them for anyone. He had been in line for Director of the UMCP, but had rejected the offer, quit the force, and taken over his father's seat on the Governing Council for Earth and Space. At the time, Spartacus had been too naive to understand the implications of Crixus' abandoment of Crassus and the cops. Now, he understood more than he wanted to.

What Spartacus Warden wanted was for Crixus to put forth a bill of severance to the GCES. Crixus was a man of considerable passion, otherwise he never would have left the UMCP behind.

"Don't let him get bogged down by the details. Write the bill for him if you have to. What we need, what I need is for him to put all his personal prestige, his experience, his passion behind it. If the police force could be separated from Crassus, if we were an independent branch of the government instead of a private police force, we'd be able to function the way the cops should. I want the bill in front of the GCES in forty-eight hours." Before The Bull finds out what's really happening on Billingate, he added silently.

Her eyes shining, Sura let out, "Spartacus, he'll never let you get away with it! When he finds out what you're up to, he'll consider it a personal betrayal. He can have you fired, or worse!"

Spartacus smiled ruefully. He knew what she said was true. If anyone, even Gaius or Gannicus got wind of this, it would all be for nothing. "That's why Vertigus can't know this is my idea. As far as he knows, this should come from you." Spartacus needed Crixus to do this because he believed in it, not because he thought Spartacus was trying to outmaneuver Crassus.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Agron

 

Agron Niklaus rubbed the scars beneath his eyes, and waited for Billingate Operations to assign him a berth. Where he was told to dock would give a clue as to where he stood with Batiatus.

Obviously, he was putting the Bill into an impossible siutation. The Amnion had undoubtedly been in contact with the man, transmitting their requirements, which certainly would not be to Agron's benefit. And Quint would have to take them seriously. He thrived here because the Amnion allowed it: they could revoke his whole economic system whenever they wanted to. Not only that, those two hostile warships had enough firepower to reduce his entire installation to dust. No, The Bill wouldn't thank Agron for bringing these problems down on his head.

So would it be a visitor's dock, or a place in the shipyard? If Captain's Fancy were treated like a visitor, that would mean Agron's troubles were only beginning. Damn them all to piss and shit, he thought. What the fuck was taking so long? His ship was vulnerable right now. She was moving too slow to survive a firefight. He might be able to inflict some damage on any would-be attackers, but he'd be destroyed in the process.

As his ship drifted along its trajectory towards Billingate, Agron paced the bridge. he fretted as he studied the screen and readouts. His usual confidence was gone. The nagging feeling that Nasir had dug himself a hole too deep for Agron to pull him out of consumed the captain. He berated himself for not foreseeing the course Nasir would take. 

He couldn't afford the luxury of stewing about that now, though. The past was the past, and men who spent too much time looking back got shot by what was in front of them. Agron's brain though didn't seem to recognize the futility of longing to take back the mistakes he had made with Nasir. They were made for each other in every way. Loving Nasir, and being loved by him was the closest he'd ever come to healing his scars. 

Agron hated this waiting game. Of course it wasn't a simple question for Billingate. Quint would have to figure out whose side he was on. Whatever the Amnion and The Bill were discussing, they weren't sharing it with Captain's Fancy. "Damn them all to piss and shit!" he repeated, this time out loud.

While they all waited with bated breath, Agron tried to put all his knowledge in order. The ship that had taken Nasir's pod into its cargo hold had already returned to dock. Port of registry was Terminus Station, and the ship's name came back as Soar, captain of record one Sorus Chatelaine. Agron had never heard of the ship or her captain.

Groping for his air of superiority and confidence, he snapped at Pietros. "Cross-reference it. Name, captain, i.d. codes. Give me a real answer." It wasn't uncommon for illegal ships and captains to change their names. But they couldn't change their registrations, the code that came embedded in their datacores. At least not without replacing the whole thing. For good measure, he added, "Try their emission signature too, or anything else scan might have picked up on them."

Those instructions would have to wait for a moment, though, because final approach and docking instructions were coming in. He was being treated like a visitor. Certainly not as a ship that needed massive work on her gap drive. As much as it set his blood to boil, at least now he knew where he stood, and how much it was going to cost him to get the love of his life back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negotiations between Agron and Batiatus for Nasir commence, but they are halted by the arrival of a face from Agron's past.

  
  
    Agron had come to a place where he had to cheat somebody - and whoever he cheated would kill him for it. Why were the Amnion so determined to get ahold of Nasir? Was he really that important, or was he just an excuse? He couldn't answer that question, and so couldn't accurately gauge his position, or Batiatus' for that matter. What would the Bill get out of appeasing the Amnion, and what would he lose by refusing to help Agron?

    The ship captain gritted his teeth. He was an illegal, and he disliked dock in the best of times. Surrendering his ship and his power wasn't something that came easy to him. He hated being faced with the posibility that he might never gain regain that control.

    "Nobody in or out until I get back,'' he growled at his crew over the intercom. He was on his way to have a face to face with Batiatus, and he hoped he'd be able to start pulling himself out of this mess. The man had Nasir, he was sure of it.

    Just as he was reaching the airlock, Pietros voice stopped him. "Agron, before you go, I wanted you to know I've got alternative i.d. on that ship, Soar."

    Agron dismissed the information outright. "Sorry, too late. Tell me when I get back." He was in a hurry. Once the outer door was opened, Agron stepped out of the ship, and found himself in a long hallway, at the end of which stood two guards.

    Both of them were bio-fitted with weaponry in place of normal limbs. Agron was used to sights like that, but he was still filled with contempt. Any man who couldn't shoot straight unless his gun was built into his arm was less than human in his opinion.

    "Captain Niklaus?" one of the men asked.

    "Who the fuck were you expecting? Spartacus Warden?" Agron grinned, and strode between the guards. "I'm going to see Quintus. I already know the way, so you can follow me or stay here and make sure no one steals my ship. Either way, I don't need you around."

    After the hallway came a reception area, which Agron passed through quickly till he reached a lift. He rode it down to the deepest level, to the underground offices the Bill used for himself. Another access passage, more guards. He'd been down here before, but the pile of rock above him had never felt so heavy. Forcing his head up, he walked the last few meters to the room which served as the Bill's personal command center.

    On the wall over the door was a sign that read:

 

I'M THE BILL YOU OWE.

 

    The room was spacious, but dimly lit. At the far end sat a desk, and behind it, sat Quintus Batiatus himself. Behind him were numerous screens, boards, and readouts which kept him in constant contact with every part of his installation. He looked up, and flashed Agron a phony smile.

    The Bill spread his arms in welcome. "Captain Agron! How lovely it is to see you again. You haven't been away long, but it's always such a delight when you come to visit us."

    "Batiatus," Agron acknowledged. He stopped just in front of the desk and waited for the man to continue. This was Quintus' show, and Agron would have to play along for now.

    "I gather you've had some recent adventures. It's not every day a ship arrives here escorted by two Amnion vessels. You'll have to fill me in sometime. But not now, of course. I know you're a busy man, so why don't you tell me how I can serve you. Provided you can pay for those services, naturally."

    Agron wasn't in the mood for this farce. "Fine," he snapped. "I need repairs. I may not have credits, but I do have a way to pay for them. It's up to you, though, You have something that belongs to me. It's something the Amnion want, in order to satisfy their requirements. But as long as you have my ejection pod, I can't satisfy them. I wouldn't be surprised if they just decided to take it from you."

    Smooth as butter, the Bill replied, "What if I decide to just hand it over directly to them?"

    "If you do that, you'll be cheating me," Agron countered. "Once I start spreading it around, other ships will begin take their business elsewhere. No," he continued, "the best thing for you is to give me what's mine. Then I can pay you, and deal with the Amnion myself. We'll all get what we want."

    "I'm afraid it's not that simple. You expect me to give you back your 'property' as you call it, but you haven't told me what's it's worth." Batiatus was shaking his head sadly, as though he were truly hurt by Agron's omission.

    Offering a silent apology to Nasir for his next words, Agron continued harshly. "The property has no value to me at all. The Amnion want what's in that pod, I don't. But if you won't simply return it to me, maybe I can offer you something else. I've got one thing left to trade. I can give you-"

    At that exact moment, a light flashed on one of Batiatus' boards, and the man held up a hand to stall Agron. He tapped out instructions on a display behind him while Agron screamed in his head. Listen to me, you fucking cunt, he was thinking. I've got an immunity drug from the UMCP. I'll give it to you right now if you just give me Nasir back! But the words died in his head as the door opened and he turned to see who had interrupted him.

    The entire room seemed to fade away, and all Agron saw was the woman who walked in. Surprise and horror warred within him as he watched  her stride towards the Bill and embrace him tenderly. Subtle lines were etched into the skin around her eyes, and her hair had lost some of its lustre, yet he recognized her immediately. Recognized her as surely as if she had stepped out of one of his old nightmares.

    "... my wife, Sorus Chatelaine," Batiatus was saying from somewhere far away.

    Agron hadn't made the connection before. He knew her, and her ship, by different names. She was the woman who had left the scars on his face, and the wounds on his heart. Rage twisted his handsome face, and only the thought of Nasir's safety  kept him from launching himself at her. His muscles were so taut, he could barely breath.

    "Your timing is unfortunate, my dear. Captain Niklaus was about to make me an offer of some sort. I'm sorry Agron, but that will have to wait." Turning to his wife, Batiatus continued. "There was something urgent you needed to discuss with me?"

    "Operations has just received contact from a UMCP Needle-class scout. She calls herself Trumpet, and she's about twelve hours out of dock and requesting permission to approach. There are two men aboard who claim they stole her from UMCPHQ. Ashur Thermopyle and one Milos Taverner."

    Agron hadn't thought he could be any more surprised, but apparently he'd been wrong. The room suddenly felt hot, the atmosphere electric. He seemed to be experiencing the boom of thunder and the crash of lightning in his head. Lucretia Lentulus had left him with tears of blood and shame streaming down his cheeks. The only other person he hated as much as her was Ashur, and now that bastard as on his way here as well.

    Caught in a nightmare, Agron Niklaus went a little crazy. He'd been silent throughout the rest of the exchange, but when he looked up, he realized the Bill and Lucretia (Sorus, Agron reminded himself) were watching him expectantly. That bitch looked at him with an amused expression, like she was enjoying her effect on him, and wanted to see how far she could push him before he lost control.

    He exhaled a breath, and ran his hands through his short, unruly hair. "Gods I'm tired," he huffed. "If you think being harassed all the way here from Amnion space is fun, you haven't experienced it." Then because insanity was just another form of inspiration, he threw in, "Do you know those fuckers sold me faulty components? We almost blew up crossing the dimensional gap. Fuck, if it weren't for my engineer, I wouldn't be standing here talking to you."

    "My," muttered Sorus, "whatever could you have done to warrant that?"

    Agron ignored her.  In fact he planned on ignoring her from here on out, at least until he was ready to kill her. Instead, he chose to concentrate on Quintus. With his old, casual air he pointed at her, "She probably didn't tell you I've got an outstanding bill with **_her_** , one you can rest assured I plan on paying."

    "We can discuss all that later of course. For now, a visitor's berth sounds like an excellent idea. In the meantime, take good care of my property. I don't want to have to worry about what you're doing to the little bastard." The words tasted bitter in his mouth, but he forced himself to say them. If the Bill knew how much Nasir meant to him personally, he'd have even more leverage, and that was something Agron couldn't have. Without even a glance at Sorus, he turned and strode toward the door. It slid open in front of him,and he exited the Bill's strongroom. He was finally able to unclench his fists and rub at his palms, little half moon indentations from his nails marring the skin there.

    By the time his escort had returned him to his ship, he felt Billingate's gravity growing less on him. He felt practically bouyant, his legs giving him more lift with each step he took, and it was all owed to the fact that his dreams of revenge against Lucretia had a chance to at last become a reality.

    Immediately after arriving on the bridge all attention turned toward him. "Agron," Pietros spoke from the data station, "about that other ship, Soar -"

    Agron cut him off. "It's alright, I know. She used to call herself Gutbuster. She was illegal a long time ago, before this place existed. Back then, she used to trade directly with the Amnion. Maybe she still works for them." He didn't know all of that for a fact, but it was a good guess.

    On impulse, he moved to stand between his command officers, Mira and Laeta. He pulled them close and leaned their heads together. He whispered softly, so only they could hear, "Sorus Chatelaine is the bitch who cut me."

    "Are we going after her?" breathed Laeta.

    "We sure as fuck are," Agron promised.

    "That's just fucking great, Agron," Mira snarled at him. "Just what we fucking need. Are we not mired in enough shit as it is? You think you're the only one who's got something at stake here? We're all hanging on by our teeth because you decided you couldn't live without Nasir. You're the one who took us to Enablement. I care about him too, but you've risked all our lives for his. Then you went and lost him. You did, not any of us! The fucking Bill has got him, and you're running out of things to trade. If we try and leave, those warships will blast us, and if we stick around here, we could all be murdered in our bunks just because you couldn't  hold up your end of a bargain!"

    His command two was nowhere near done. Slamming her fist on the control board, she went on. "And now, on top of all that bullshit, you're dragging us into a grudge match with some woman who has ties to Batiatus and probably the Amnion as well! How do you plan to take her down, and get Nasir back too? This is fucked up, Agron. And I'd be a fucked up second and friend if I didn't point that out to you."

    The bridge was silent. No one had ever seen Agron challenged so directly. They all held their collective breath waiting for their captain to erupt on Mira. He might have done so too if the moment hadn't been broken by a beeping coming from Pietros' console.

    That sound signalled the arrival of an Amnion emissary. In fact it was the same one they had received aboard Captain's Fancy back on Enablement, Marc Vestabule. Immediately Agron's brain went into overdrive. The same bastard they had sent the last time, which meant that someone, some Amnion decisive had foreseen this exact situation. They had anticipated that Captain's Fancy might survive the gap, and make for Billingate, so they had sent the same piece of shit along.

    Impressed in spite of himself, Agron starting formulating conclusions. Maybe the bastards hadn't been trying to kill them afterall. What if they were just testing those parts out? No, those parts weren't designed to make a gap crossing, they were designed for speed. The kind of damage a tub like Calm Horizons could do at that velocity was a sobering thought. Nothing on Earth could defend against a super-light proton beam fired from a warship traveling at that speed. If the Amnion were getting ready to end this cold war with humanity, they wanted to be assured of victory.

    There were too many things at play here. He couldn't decide where to focus his efforts. Milos and Ashur were on their way to Billingate. On the surface, that didn't make a whole lot of sense. On a deeper level, though, it reeked of DA and Gannicus Lebwohl. Agron was a smart guy, he didn't have any trouble putting that together.

    What he needed was time, to analyze, to study, to make sure he'd come out of this alive and on top, with Nasir beside him. Agron could feel his anger subsiding. It was replaced by loss and grief, a longing for Nasir so deep it was virtually bottomless. Wearily, he agreed to allow Vestabule on board his ship. The sooner he got this over with the better. Then he could go lie down on Nasir's bunk, and plan his next move.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron is willing to do anything to see Nasir safe, even if it means teaming up with a man he has sworn to kill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late update. I got so caught up writing for the October Spartacus Fan Challenge that I didn't have time for anything else.

  
  
    The guards had locked Nasir in a room, where he sat and shivered like an invalid. He wondered when the Bill would decide to give him over to Amnion, and he wondered if he might actually freeze to death before that happened. Even though he was now in a holding cell on Billingate, the cold from the cargo hold had grabbed hold of his insides and refused to let go.   
  
    Only a small san and the cold, metal, bench Nasir now lay upon decorated the lifeless chamber. If there were monitors inside, they were too well hidden to be easily identifiable. By all appearances, Nasir was completely alone, with only his thoughts for company.   
  
    He alternated between sitting still, and pacing the floor. Nasir's mind wandered to what would happen when the Bill inevitable turned him over to the Amnion. How bad would it be when his entire cellular being was blasted apart and recreated into something new? Would he able to hold tight to memories of Agron and the brief happiness they had shared?   
  
    A few more hours, then. That was all he asked. Please.  
  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
  
    Agron Niklaus sat at table in one of the dim and dirty corners of a sleazy little place called The Followers Camp. The patrons at this place were some of the most unsavory characters you'd find on any station. Whores, male and female, young and old, paraded around, setting themselves on display, but Agron had eyes for none of them. There was only reason he was here, and that was because he knew Milos Taverner and Ashur Thermopyle had booked rooms here after docking at Billingate. Much as might want to kill Ashur for what he had put Nasir through, he was willing to postpone carrying out that death sentence until he got what he needed from the bastard.  
  
    He didn't have to wait long. After about a half hour or so, Ashur tromped down the stairs, his second in tow. Agron saw his enemy's face contort in anger, and his eyes blaze with hatred.   
  
    Fuck the Bill, and fuck Spartacus Warden and his zone implants, thought Ashur. Agron Niklaus was the man responsible for the destruction of Bright Beauty. He'd caught Ashur in a trap, and the fact that he was here now, free, while Ashur was welded and cursed, was something that had to be remedied and soon.   
  
    Worse than all of that though, Agron had taken Nasir. The thought of the two of them together was enough to set his blood on fire. In his mind he was already moving. A few steps to the table, and then a quick fist to the side of Captain Goatfucker's temple, and then all that bravado and those good looks would be nothing but dead meat in his hands.      
  
    All of it was in his head only. He faced Agron's mocking grin and his scars across the bar, and Ashur could move or speak. He heard Milos whisper behind him, "Well, look, the gang's all together again. Let's move it, Joshua. We've got a job to do."  
  
    While Agron watched from the corner with a curious expression on his face, Ashur was locating the bugs in the room, and then scanned for people who were wired. He located two. One was a man hunched over the bar, with a drink in his hand and a pickup in his brain. The other was a woman sitting at a table near Agron.       
  
    Remaining seated with his back in the corner to better watch the room, Agron raised his hand in a mock salute, taunting Ashur just that much more. As the two men approached the table, Agron began to speak. "Milos, Captain Thermo-pile. It would be nice to say I'm surprised to see you here, but I think we all know that's not true. Every bastard on this rock knows you're here."  
  
    Ashur nudged Milos to take the chair on Agron's right, and took the seat of Agron's left for himself, then nodded at his second like he was giving him permission to speak.   
  
    "Ashur has a talent for spotting bugeyes. He says he can keep us out of trouble, you can speak freely," Milos whispered urgently.  
  
    "Who said anything about watching out for this fuck?'' Ashur retorted, while Milos' anger showed through in his eyes momentarily before lowering his head. "And get up and go get us some drinks. What the fuck are we doing here if we aren't going to have a good time?" Milos was supposed to be Ashur's second, and he was supposed to take his orders. As much as it chapped his ass, the little man could do nothing but obey.  
  
    "Why Thermo-pile, you're getting rude in your old age. Why do I get the distinct impression you're trying to get rid of Milos? What is it you don't want him to hear?"  
  
    At the same time he sat trading thinly veiled barbs with Agron, Ashur was busy assesing the dangers. The Bill trusted no one, and there were bound to be wires here. His datacore told him he needed to get rid of the woman sitting next to them before her pickups could catch what they were all really here to discuss.   
  
    Milos had already ordered three drinks, and was waiting as the bartender poured. He'd be here any second and whatever words were about to be exchanged couldn't get back to Batiatus. Ashur didn't waste any time. He slammed his fist down hard on the table, cursed loudly and got to his feet. He turned and confronted the wired woman and her two clueless companions.   
  
    "Sister, I don't like the way you're looking at me and my friend here," he snarled into her drunk, empty face. Startled, she tried to focus her eyes on him but couldn't. Instead she just mumbled something that sounded like ''fuck off'' at him.   
  
    Obviously, she didn't have to be alert to be of use to the Bill. Ashur was in his element. His hatred for Agron needed an outlet, and this woman had provided one. Grabbing her two companions by their collars, he thundered, "I want you to take this piece of trash, and go sit over there!"  
  
    Like frightened rabbits, the men hauled her to her feet and tugged her away. She muttered angrily the whole time, stumbling and bumping into the tables.   
  
    The threat already dismissed by his computers, Ashur turned back to rejoin Agron. "What the fuck was that all about?" Agron asked incredulously. "Are you looking to get yourself shot, you stupid shit?"  
  
    Ashur ignored that comment, and instead decided to get down to the matter at hand. "Listen up, Goatfucker, don't make the mistake of thinking you can plot with Milos behind my back. You burned me once, but that's over. I tell you now, you will never get the chance to burn me again. If you want this little cunt for something, you damn well better include me in the plan. Or you can just forget about him!"  
  
    Staring at Ashur for a moment, Agron was silent. Then abruptly, he threw back his head and roared laughter, making some of the patrons turn towards them in curiosity. His laughter hid the frayed nerves and throbbing pain of a man who had lost his heart. Instead, he presented to Ashur that he was the same Agron Niklaus that couldn't be touched, his superiority a gap the lesser man could never cross.   
  
    With a scowl, Milos set the drinks down on the table. His fingers dug in his pocket, and came back with a packet of smokes and lighter. Placing a cigarette between his lips, he feigned calm. "The next time I turn my back, I wouldn't be surprised if you tried to kill each other."  
  
    Ashur laughed. "Fuck off, Milos. Next time you turn your back, we may just kill you."  
  
    Downing a drink like he couldn't care what was in it, Agron drawled, " Don't listen to him Milos. I don't need him, but you, I can definitely find a use for. I know a thing or two about your resources. You must have credits, or else the Bill wouldn't have let you dock here. I wonder which one of your secret accounts you had to give up for that right. How much money do you have?"   
  
    "What makes you think I'm going to tell you that? And why do you even need to know that?" Milos shot back.  
  
    Agron's mask slipped for a fraction of a second before he got himself under control again. "Batiatus has Nasir," he explained, as he named the astronomical sum the Bill had quoted him to free the young man. "If I don't get that money to him, he's going to give him to the Amnion, and we all know what they're going to do to him."  
  
    _Nasir!_ Ashur's mind went black with rage. Niklaus had gone and fucked up good, and lost the boy to the fucking Bill.  "How could you be so stupid? What did you do to get the Amnion interested in him?"  
  
    Music began to play loudly as they continued their conversation. The stage off to the side lit up, and the men and women around the bar looked up expectantly. Two scantilly clad young women had made their way onstage and were getting ready to begin performing, but the three men paid no attention.   
  
    "This is partly your Gods damned fault, Thermo-pile! If it hadn't been for that fucking zone implant, none of this would have happened. He'd never have gotten sick, I'd never have had to take him to Enablement, and he'd still be safe with me." Agron's eyes promised blood, but so did Ashur's. Milos missed all of that though, because he was too busy shaking his head and protesting. He wasn't about to turn over any of his money to rescue a kid he didn't give two fucks about.   
  
    Without warning, a window opened in Ashur's head. Had he been free, he would have chosen immediately to help Nasir, but it was his datacore and zone implants that supplied him with what to say. His palm came down flat on the table like a promise to Agron and he spoke, "All right, I can't force this little shit to give you his money, but I can help you get MornHyl back from the Bill. And don't bother asking me why, cause I'm not telling you fuck-all. But I'm your last hope, I think, and I kind of like the idea of you needing me for something."  
  
    "Ashur, you bastard!"  Milos cried out. "We didn't come here for that." But the other two men ignored him.  
  
    In the dinginess of  The Followers Camp, Agron and Ashur hatched plans together, while Milos sputtered and tried everything short of issuing Joshua a Jericho priority order to stop them. Agron had known Ashur would do anything to get Nasir back once he told him the Bill had the boy. And he wasn't worried about Nasir, his little man could handle himself now that Ashur no longer held the control to his zone implant. What he didn't know was that Ashur wasn't acting alone.  
  
    No sooner had his datacore processed Agron's request for help in rescuing Nasir, than the computers had taken over. Ashur couldn't have declined if he had wanted to. Even though he had been told explicitly he was under no orders to rescue Nasir MornHyl, his computer's actions told a different story.   
  
    The woman Ashur had sent to the other side of the bar may have been out of range, but now she was useful to them. The only problem was the wire she still had in her head. Ashur could take care of that though, with a little help from Agron. The woman didn't have a prayer against a man like that.   
  
    Cocky and self-assured, Agron approached her table and said something to one of the woman's companions that leeched his face of color. He stood from his chair and backed away hastily. Agron's beautiful, green eyes shone at the woman, and he flashed his teeth to her in a grin that made it clear she was his prey this night.   
  
    The other man looked to the woman, the realization that he had missed his window of opportunity slowly dawning on him. Her attention was solely for Agron. He seated himself beside her, reaching one hand out to stroke her cheek lightly.  
  
    Leaning in closer, his hand traveled downward, to the curve of her neck, her exposed shoulder. The other hand he wound in her hair at the back of her head, just as Ashur had instructed him. As his lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of her neck, she shuddered and closed her eyes.  Agron though, kept one eye out for Ashur's approach.   
  
    The woman's eyes and ears were wired, everything she saw and heard being transmitted back to the paranoid man they called the Bill. Ashur had to take a route that kept him behind the woman.   
  
    Scarcely touching the base of her neck, Ashur pricked her with a tiny burst of laser fire, so shallow and sharp she might not have even felt it, just deep enough to cut the leads to her wire. Then he made for the door. One look at the woman's neck would reveal the tiny prick there, but she wouldn't be able to report that Ashur or Milos had been anywhere near her.   
  
    Agron wasn't finished though, there was still something they needed out of this woman. He murmured into her ear constantly, empty and vacant descriptions of her beauty and charm. His fingertips danced over the tops of her breasts, cutting away any defenses she might have had left. Finally, she breathed out in a husky voice, "Take me out of here."  
  
    Triumphantly, Agron grinned, and answered, "I was waiting for you to say that." He guided her to her feet, wrapped his arm around her as they moved out of the bar and towards the lift that led to the rooms. The inebriated woman pressed herself close against him, nuzzled his neck as though she had something he actually wanted. His mind though was far away, on thoughts of dark skin, long, ebony locks, and full, ripe lips.   
  
    When the lift finally opened, he pulled her along the hallway, then held up and pressed her palm to the scanner to open the door to the room. He dropped her on the sagging bed as she whined her impatience. Moving to the data terminal along the wall and selected low music that would muffle any bugeyes contained within the cheap room.      
  
    Returning to the bed, Agron stretched out on top of the woman, and wrapped her in a hold that would keep her under his control if she reacted badly. His voice low, he breathed, "There's something I need from you."  
  
    She laughed breathily, "Anything."  
  
    "What I need is information. The Bill is keeping something that belongs to me." He felt her body stiffen beneath him, but he didn't stop. "I want it back. You can tell me where it is."  
  
    Twisting in his arms, she tried in vain to push him away. "I don't know anything about that. I don't work for him."  
  
    With a warning grin, Agron said, "Bullshit. You're a wire."  
  
    The color drained from the woman's cheeks.  Drink or plain old stupidity left her unable to deny or question his statement. Looking pale and frightened, she told Agron about the sector of Billingate that Batiatus used for lockup. The rumor was something important had been taken there, but she couldn't tell him if it was what he was looking for.   
  
    When she finished, she begged Agron to take him with her on Captain's Fancy. "I helped you! I told you what you wanted to know. Take me with you, and I can show you how much more useful I can be to you."  
  
    "Apologies, but no. You haven't got anything to offer me that I would actually want." Releasing her from his hold, Agron stood and moved once more to the data terminal. He coded a message and sent it. Per Ashur's instructions, he had sent the message in two parts, each coded differently. The first was for Laeta on Captain's Fancy, ordering her to relay the second message  ship to ship to Trumpet. She didn't have the cypher for the second message and wouldn't know what it said, but Ashur did. This would also keep the Bill locked out of their communications. Ship to ship messages weren't subject to Batiatus' buggery.   
  
    Grimacing involuntarily, Agron returned to his ship. He was laying trust in Ashur to get Nasir back, and while he was plagued with doubts, he knew he was being too closely watched to ever get close to his lover. But Ashur and Milos, they were a different matter. As long as Agron was walking around and vexing the Bill, he wouldn't expect an attack from somewhere else.       
  
      
          
   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So please don't think Agron has forgotten about how much he wants to kill Ashur, but Nasir is more important to him than his hatred and anger. Also remember, he still has someone else he plans to take revenge on, Sorus/Lucretia. We'll find out more about her and her connection to both Agron and Nasir in the coming chapters, although if you have read Part I of the series, you may have already figured it out. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

  
  
    He should have felt better when he'd cycled the locks and was back onboard Captain's Fancy. Nevertheless, his anxiousness had not abated. The plan to rescue Nasir was now out of his hands, and the only thing he had left to do was plot against Sorus. His earlier message to Laeta was to ask her to assemble certain people that he could trust to do a job correctly.

    Mira Vasaczk may have been angry with him, but she was still the best crew member he had. The job he gave her was potentially dangerous, but if she succeeded, it would go a long way towards putting Sorus Chatelaine exactly where he wanted her. Mira's instructions were to take Pietros, Lucius, and Pup, and find out where Soar's crew was staying while in dock.     

    Whatever shithole they'd put themselves up in was bound to have a bar much like the one Agron had been to earlier. "Put yourself where some of the crew can hear what you're saying, and be sure the Bill's bugeyes can pick you up too," he instructed. It was vital that what they said get back to both parties, meaning Batiatus and Sorus.

    Rumors on a station like this spread fast, and Agron wanted one started about the immunity drug. People needed to start believing that Sorus had a drug that protected her from the Amnion. Once they were certain her people had heard them, Mira and the others were to move on, but not come directly back to the ship. Agron couldn't have people guessing he sent his crew out specifically to start gossip.

    "Do you think you can handle it?" he asked. "Or do I need to send someone else?" _Are you still with me, Mira? Do you still have my back?_

    There was no hesitation in her voice when she answered coolly, "Oh, I can handle it." Her gaze drifted involuntarily to her brother, Pup. The boy was her only vulnerability, and as she looked at him, she understood the lengths Agron had gone to, was still going to, to get Nasir back. She'd go just as far for Pup. No, she'd never call him that name again. Ciro then, the name her parents had given him. She'd go just as far for Ciro.

    By the time Agron left Captain's Fancy to make his meeting with the Bill, the people he trusted most were off carrying out his orders. He was only a minute or two behind the schedule he and Ashur had worked out when he reached the strongroom, demanding to see Batiatus.  
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    Nasir MornHyl paced his cell, seven steps in either direction. Ocassionally he broke the monotony by doing a few pushups. The blank walls were his only companion. Sometimes he felt like screaming, and then weeping, or both at the same time. He was a prisoner, one piece in a conflict over which he had no control. Human beings weren't made to withstand stress like this. He should have fallen apart by now. But he didn't.

    So he continued to roam the space in his cell like a caged lion. He added sit-ups and handstands to his repertoire. Exercises and skills he had learned in the Academy were now keeping him tethered to sanity. At the same time, he chewed on his memories and his current predicament. If there was even a chance that Batiatus would decide to give him back to Agron, he had to choose his words very carefully the next time he was questioned.

   _Come on, you bastard. Question me again. Ask me what's going on. Give me another chance to get this right. Before it's too late. Before I lose my fucking mind._

    Try as he might to prove he didn't need rest, his body betrayed him. Despite all his efforts, he was only human after all. Had he not been certain he was being watched, he might have made an attempt to utilize his zone implant to keep him awake. But he couldn't take the chance.

    No doubt because the Bill had waited specifically for it to happen, Nasir had fallen asleep when his captors came to talk. Wrapped in dreams of warm, green eyes and strong, skilled hands, he heard the Bill's jeering voice. "Ah, the innocent slumber of the young. What a joy it must be to be able to sleep and dream so peacefully."

    Adrenaline  snapped him awake like an electric switch. However, he played his part well. Shrewd and calculating, he took his time opening his eyes. He looked around as though he were still in the throes of sleep, and focused his eyes on Batiatus and the woman he had seen earlier - the beautiful, middle-aged woman with the rich voice and the flowing red hair. She carried a stun prod with her, and Nasir's mouth tightened instinctively when he saw it.

    Nasir didn't know anything about her, not even her name. But she was obviously someone close to the Bill. Completely alert, but determined to not to show it, Nasir pulled himself to a sitting position on the narrow bench. He rubbed at his eyes as if he were struggling to stay awake, and mumbled, "What do you want?"

    "I have some questions for you. Be smart, and answer them."

    "Will you let me out if I do?" Nasir asked, in a voice laced with artificial weariness.

    Quint Batiatus chuckled low in his throat. "Of course not. But it will be less painful for you if you do. If I were feeling charitable, which I'm not, I'd  simply give you drugs to make you talk. Absent that, there are other ways to force you to give me the information I want."

    The woman picked up the vein of the conversation. "Nasir, you're smart enough to understand the position you're in. You may be nothing but merchandise to Quintus, but you care who he chooses to sell you to. Believe me, you care."

    "If you're sold back to Niklaus, you go back to your own people, the cops. If what you've told us about you and Agron working together for the UMCP, that is. But if you go to the Amnion, you'll end up like Marc Vestabule."

    Nasir remembered Vestabule, and his horrid half-human face and body. Bolting off the bench, he put his back against the wall. He had told the lie about he and Agron working together in order to strengthen his hand. But if events were beginning to converge, Nasir's relative safety in his cell would be at an end.

    "What do you want to know?" he asked, swallowing down the bile that had risen in his throat at the mention of Vestabule.

    Batiatus smiled, "That's better. Why don't you start by telling me why Captain Niklaus and yourself went to Enablement?"

    The lies flowed easily when they were mixed with truths. Agron and he had gone to test an immunity drug. The UMCP wouldn't sanction the mission unless a cop was part of it, and Nasir had fit the bill. There was nothing else between them, and his interaction with Agron aboard Captain's Fancy had been limited to their mission. The fact that Agron had done exactly as Nasir described a few years ago made it sound more believable coming out of his mouth.

    "We fabricated a reason for going there, told them I was ill and needed medical attention. What they didn't tell, even though we already knew, was that their hypo was tainted with mutagens. I should have turned into one of them. Thanks to the immunity drug, I'm still human."

    "So what you're saying, " said the Bill very slowly, "is that our dear friend Agron Niklaus had the gall to cheat the Amnion on one of their own stations. Is that about right?"

    "They were going to cheat us first, by injecting me with their fucking agent without telling us.  Just because we anticipated their move doesn't mean we cheated them," Nasir shot back.

    Eyes wide with surprise, cheeks flushed the woman breathed, "Some of what he's saying makes sense. I'm not stupid enough to believe everything, but suppose they're working together, against us. They have some kind of antimutagen, and that's the bait."

    As she talked, the woman began to pace the cell in unconscious mimicry of Nasir's earlier actions. "The point is to destroy us. The cops have been trying to get rid of us for years! And now they'll get the Amnion to do it for us. Those bastards want the antimutagen so badly they were willing to agree to destroy us in order to pay for it. But they need an excuse to do it, Quintus!"

    Nasir stared at her, stunned into near silence by what he'd started.

    The Bill couldn't contain himself. Like a child throwing a temper tantrum, he shouted at her, "We don't have any reason to think any of this is true. Just because a scared and desperate little cunt says it doesn't make it so! For all we know, he's inventing the whole thing. He could be trying to scare us, because he knows if we're frightened, we'll keep him here. And here, he's safe!"

    The woman went on speaking as though Batiatus hadn't just interrupted her. "Listen to me! What if the deal was that Niklaus would offer you the antimutagen.  And then, after he'd had time to get away, they'd spread the story that you were dealing the immunity behind the Amnion's back, and that the Amnion destroyed you for your double dealing.  A lie like that would be enough to pacify the rest of the illegals and keep the Amnion in business."

    "But where it all went wrong was when Niklaus saw me. He was going to make you that offer, until he realized revenge was more important than his mission. Didn't you say he was just about to offer you something before I walked in there?"

    Revenge? Why would Agron want revenge on this woman? Who was she, and what else was going on here that Nasir wasn't understanding?

    "It would also explain what Niklaus and Thermopyle were doing together. If he can trick Thermopyle into helping him get rid of me, then he can still go ahead with his original plan, and still have his revenge. And we don't know what he was offering Ashur and Milos in return for their help, because conveniently, all the bugs in the place went dead while they talked. The boy was with Thermopyle before Agron took him, wasn't he? Maybe Ashur wants him back, and Agron is willing to part with him if it gets him what he wants."

    Slowly, both of the people in the room turned to face Nasir once more.

    "Well, you started this," snapped the Bill. "What do you make of the fact that Captain Niklaus was seen drinking and talking with Thermopyle, a man he hates, just before he disabled my closest wire, then took her upstairs and scared her into giving up where I keep my important guests?"

    Nasir could barely speak. The reaction to his lie was so powerful - so explosive, that it left him stunned. But that wasn't the only thing that had him on the verge of a panic attack. As they had repeated Ashur's name over and over, he could only stand there and shake his head.  Seemingly out of nowhere, Nasir's torturer had arrived on Billingate, with Milos Taverner. And he'd met with Agron, who had apparently not killed him.

    "I didn't know he was here," Nasir stammered. "I thought he was in lockup on Capua Station. I wasn't even sure that  he was still alive. How could I possibly know what he and Agron are doing together?"  He stood and blinked, as though he were on the verge of tears, which he was.

    Batiatus whirled on his companion. "I'm leaving this mess with you," he said through gritted teeth. "We agree Captain Niklaus dangerous, and we agree that he wants revenge on you. Torture the little cunt if you want to, but just get the fucking truth out of him. Then come and see me." Without waiting for her reply, the Bill swept from the cell.

    The woman fixed her eyes on Nasir, her fingers flexing on the handle of the stun prod. "You may be wondering why your Captain Agron wants to get even with me. It's all very simple, you see," she murmured softly. "I killed his brother and gave Agron those scars."

    Fury blazed in Nasir's  eyes when he heard her confession. So this was the woman who had nearly destroyed his lover. Nasir hadn't thought he could dislike her any more than he already did, but he was wrong.

    Looking at him, she raised one eyebrow. "But when I see you standing there and glaring at me like that, I can't help but think that if he'd looked at me the same way, I wouldn't have cut his pretty face. I'd have killed him where he stood." She paused for a moment, before seeming to come to a decision. "I'll be back just as soon as I figure out how to make you tell me everything we want to know."

    She left Nasir alone. He heard the cell door lock as it closed behind her. Sick with rage and worry, but determined to reveal nothing, he lay back down on the bench, closed his eyes, and pretended not to care.   
      
   


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mira and the others carry out Agron's orders. Things are set in motion back on Earth, and Sura finds herself in a dangerous situation, while Ashur makes his move on Billingate.

    Hours had dragged on for Sura since early morning. It had begun with a video conference between Spartacus, Gannicus, and the members of the Governing Council for Earth & Space. Sura and Glaber had been in attendance, but had not been asked to speak, instead sitting silent in the background, unseen by the cameras. The conference had been nothing less than a debacle. The first topic of discussion was Ashur Thermopyle and his "escape" from UMCPHQ, which the council used to insinuate incompetence on the part of the UMCP.

     Once the shocking revelation about the UMCP's complicity in Agron Niklaus' plot to frame Ashur came to light, the GCES was up in arms. The fact that Nasir MornHyl, a young UMCP ensign and member of one of the richest families on Earth had been used as a pawn in the game caused stomachs to turn, Sura's included.

     The video conference ended with one of the special counsels calling out both men. "Directors, you have used the word 'vileness' in your reports to describe Thermopyle's actions. Doesn't that word fit your own as well?"

     Spartacus severed the downlink, and Sura didn't wait around to hear what he would try and say to placate her. She simply went on with her job, carrying out the orders he had tasked her with. What should have been a simple meeting with Crixus Vertigus had turned into a nightmare, however. She had gone there to hand deliver the bill of severance Spartacus wanted put forth before the GCES.

     Crixus had complied with her request for total privacy, and had made sure all his aides and his secretary would be out of the office when she arrived. Though at first he had been skeptical, he had finally come around and agreed to present the piece of legislation that would allow the cops to function independently of the cancer that was Crassus, the Bull. "It occurs to me, Director Donner, that what you're asking me to do should have been done a long time ago."

     Riding a rush of excitement, Sura got to her feet. Just as she was about to pull Crixus into a crushing hug, she heard noises coming from outside the closed doors. Glancing at the clock on Crixus' desk, she asked, "What time should your aides be back?"

     "You should still have about five minutes," he answered, a puzzled look on his face as he crossed to the door. "Wait here, let me check."

     Sura groaned when she heard him mumble, "Damn. What the hell is my secretary doing back so early? And I wonder who that is..."

     Feeling a twinge of uneasiness, Sura moved to join Crixus at the door. Through the slitted opening, she watched as a man shuffled toward them. Inexplicably, her palms started to burn and her whole body tensed. The man wore a maintenance uniform and carried a small tool case with him, but she knew instantly he wasn't here to work on anything. He moved too stiffly, like someone who was in pain or physically impaired in some way.

     Crixus and Sura came to the same conclusion simultaneously. She pulled her impact pistol, while Crixus shoved her away from the door, and whispered urgently, "Behind the desk." They both knew the look of a kaze when they saw one.

     Trying to make a move for the door, Crixus was stopped by Sura. "You can't go out there. You'll be killed!"

     Through the door, they both hear the secretary, Martha, saying, "I'm sorry, I don't think he's in."

     "This will only take a moment," the kaze mumbled.

     Sura was standing near the door, while Crixus had gone for his gun in his desk drawer. As soon as the man moved past the reception desk, Sura kicked the door open. Aiming her gun at the intruder, she shouted to Crixus, "Get down!"

      The kaze's eyes widened in surprise, but after only a moment's hesitation, he launched himself forward. Sura fired, hitting him once in the chest. When the explosives the man had surgically implanted in his chest went off, the blast flung her backwards like a rag doll, where she collided with the wall.

     Chunks of the ceiling rained down all around, and the door splintered outward. Sura's vision was blurry, and she couldn't hear anything. Reaching up to touch her cheek, her hand felt warm blood there. She had a severe gash on the side of her heard, and she was bleeding profusely. Carefully, she staggered to her feet.

     Stumbling, she moved to check Counselor Vertigus. His eyes were open and he was blinking them, trying to clear them of the dust and debris. Crixus' mouth was moving,  making noises Sura couldn't hear. Even her own voice was nothing but a vibration in her skull as he choked out, "I wasn't here. No matter what happens or who asks, I was never here."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Sitting at a small table with an untasted drink in her hands, Mira Vasaczk glowered at everything. The lighting, the walls, the bar as well as the woman behind it, the other patrons, none of them escaped her brutal gaze. Occasionally she even glowered at her companions, though they had done nothing to deserve it.

     "Why are we doing this, Mira?" Pietros asked her as soon as they had left Captain's Fancy.

     "Because of my brother," she gritted at him through her clenched jaw.

     Confused, Pietros asked, "Your brother? Who is that? And what does he have to do with any of this?"

     "Ciro," she answered. Then, "Pup," to clarify for her friend.

     "I didn't know he was your brother."

     "Hardly anybody does," she answered bitterly. "He didn't want me spreading it around, because then everyone would know Agron only allowed him onboard because of me. Not that it mattered, everyone still treated him like shit anyway. But look, the point is, I understand why Agron is doing all this to get Nasir back, because I would do exactly the same thing to get my brother back. And I also get why he needs to hurt Sorus Chatelaine, because if someone took Ciro from me, I'd want them dead, too."

     Ciro looked down at the glass of water in his hands, and fidgeted self consciously.

     Rumors about an immunity drug in a place like this were going to cause a whole lot of trouble. The Bill was going to go batshit, and so would the Amnion if it got back to them. Grimly, the crewmates stared at one another, wondering if Agron's orders were going to get them killed.

     Batiatus had surveillance everywhere on this rock. The bugs recorded everything within their range, but also nothing in particular. As long as they had no specific instructions to the contrary, the recordings of Mira and the rest would simply be filed into a database. Those instructions likely wouldn't be given until the rumor had more time to propagate and generate repercussions. They had maybe an hour before the Bill's security came looking for them.

     Raising her glass, Mira downed her whiskey in one long drink, then raised her eyes to meet her younger brother's. She wanted to hug him, wishing she could keep him safe with her always.

     "Ciro, I can't promise we're going to get out of this alive. I don't know what is going to happen in the next few hours, but you're not going to be alone. I'm gonna be by your side, no matter what."

     The young boy didn't answer her, but he nodded his head gratefully, and reached across the table to clasp her hand. He was surprised when he felt a large, calloused, hand cover his own and looked up to see Lucius nodding as well. Pietros smiled, and added his own hand to theirs, and the four looked at one another, and prayed to the Gods that Agron would see them through, like he always had before.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Finally, Ashur's instincts and his datacore told him the time had arrived. He stood and moved to the data terminal in the room that he and Milos were currently occupying. He tapped at the keys and opened a channel to Trumpet, accessing his messages. Turning to his companion, he grinned and bared his teeth, "It's time to go."

     Striding slowly, he exited the room and emerged out into the hallway. Milos followed behind him, unwillingly. Ashur knew exactly where he was headed. Agron's message had informed him that Batiatus had a few cells he used as interrogation chambers down in his command complex. Ashur had actually spent some time in one of those cells on a previous visit to Billingate. Thankfully, the Bill hadn't changed his procedures for dealing with problematic guests.

     When Milos saw no information was forthcoming, he hissed at Ashur, "Ok, let's just say this kid is in those cells. How are you planning on breaking him out? You know you can't just waltz in and demand him."

     Perhaps triggered by Milos' words, his database informed him of capabilities he had never even suspected.

     Ashur's smile only deepened. His prostheses could do more than identify surveillance equipment and read alarms and locks. He could also emit jamming fields, glitch a monitor to record nothing but distortion, as long as he got close enough to it. Ashur could even bend light. Surrounding himself with an electromagnetic wave that would render him virtually invisible to most optical monitors. Human eyes would still see him of course, but he wasn't worried about those.

     Stopping in his tracks, Ashur turned to face Milos, one hand clenching tight around his upper arm, the other squeezing the man's face brutally. "Listen here, my friend. I don't need you here. You're practically irrelevant. The only reason you're still here is because I can't send you away. The fucks who put us together don't trust you out of my sight. How's that for a fucking laugh? Here we are, thinking you're here to watch over me, when really I'm watching over you just as much. You're gonna need to stay close. If  someone shoots at us, get behind me and stay there. And keep your fucking mouth shut. Any noise you make will give me away."

     Baring his teeth, he released Milos and started moving again. He knew which lift he needed, which one would take him down to the lower levels of the installation. When he reached it, he pulled his partner in behind him, and kept him pressed close to the wall.

     Five levels to go. Four, three, two, one. Stop. Get out. One hand behind him to keep Milos tight against his back, Ashur stepped into a corridor twenty or so meters long. Two guards stood there, aiming their weapons at the intruders. They were no match for Ashur, who had speed, strength, and accuracy on his side. He'd been designed for this.

     His lasers made no noise as they shot both guards between the eyes. He moved forward along the hallway, checking each door for the locked one. Finally locating it, Ashur used the same lasers to break the lock, then swept the door open and found Nasir waiting.

     He thought he had been prepared, but when his eyes locked onto the achingly beautiful young man in front of him, not even Ashur's zone implants could make his feet move. His mind went back to Ludus Bar & Sleep, and the first time Nasir had seen Agron Niklaus. Those eyes that were deceptively dark, but turned the color of honey when catching the light, stared at Ashur in horror.

     Then the shock passed, and Nasir let loose an animal roar of helplessness and outrage. Simultaneously, he launched himself at Ashur like a missile. Only Ashur's welding saved him. Less then a millisecond after Nasir began screaming, Ashur activated his jamming fields. The bugs in the tiny cell went blind and deaf with static as Nasir's fist slammed into the side of Ashur's head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ashur makes good on his promise, but Agron and Nasir do not get the reunion Agron had hoped for. Someone makes a decision that will lead to betrayal.

     Defenseless and completely unprepared, Ashur's sudden appearance in Nasir's cell hit him like an arctic gust of wind. Nasir hardly noticed the small man clinging to Ashur's back. But he began to remember. The beatings, the scalpel he was forced to put to his own face, all of it washed over him, leaving him cold. Thermopyle had given him a zone implant, and used it to take away his freedom and to degrade him in ways he'd never imagined.

     Roaring like a madman, Nasir clubbed Ashur in the head. All of his strength and every ounce of his agony was behind that blow. Ashur however, just shrugged off the hit and blocked the next punch. He spun Nasir around, and grabbed his arms behind his back, then pushed the young man face first into the concrete wall.

     Nasir fought to break free of Ashur's iron grip. No matter how he thrashed though, he couldn't get loose. His own voice ringing in his ears, Nasir was slammed into the wall once more, while a hated voice hissed, "Shut up! You'll get us killed if you can't shut your fucking mouth!"

     Blood seeped into Nasir's eyes, but he still didn't stop struggling. "Listen to me." Ashur tightened his grip and continued, "Listen, Nasir! I can hide us visually from the cameras, but I can't block sound. He'll know where we are by sound alone. I'm trying to rescue you! Bu you have to shut the fuck up!"

     "You raped me, you fucking piece of shit!" Nasir choked out past his panic. ''I'm going to kill you!"

     Growling in frustration, Ashur pulled Nasir from the wall, spun him around, and hit him in the stomach hard enough to stun him. While Nasir was doubled over gasping for air, Ashur turned to his companion. Whispering urgently, he addressed the man. "Help me hold him! And keep close. Don't let him make any more noise."

  
      As they moved, Nasir stumbled, but Ashur and the other man kept him upright. They half dragged him from his cell and down a hallway towards a lift. Sweat poured off Ashur as he shoved them into the lift, and pressed the button that would take them back up.

  
      _Agron should have slagged you when he had the chance._ But Nasir kept his mouth shut, locking his screaming voice inside his skull. Rescue, Ashur had said, and something about sound. To make noise was to bring danger upon them, that much he understood at least. The lift was as claustrophobic as a coffin, and he found himself struggling to breathe again.  
    

     Eyes wide with fear darted back and forth between Ashur and his companion. The other man looked like he wanted to ask something, but Ashur shook his head vehemently. Grabbing the man by his arm, he pulled him forward and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

     When the doors opened, Nasir and the man holding him lurched forward. Ashur put out his arm and held them back, until he saw that no one was waiting to get on the lift. The corridor was empty. With a flick of his wrist, Ashur tossed the cigs out of the open door, waiting to see if the movement brought any guards.

     Nothing happened, so Ashur shoved Nasir and the man forward, and drove them down the hallway. Struggling to remain sane, Nasir realized the whole situation should have been impossible. Billingate was laden with monitors. _Why wasn't the Bill reacting? What did Ashur mean about hide us visually?_

     Locked together like a drunken trio supporting each other after a party, the moved into the reception area. A few people were gathered there, but because of the way the walked with their heads down and shambling steps, the guards paid them no mind. Once they passed reception and entered the visitor's docks, they were alone.

     Access passages branched off to serve individual berths. Some of the berths were occuppied, others were not. Nasir saw "Captain's Fancy" displayed on one of the passages, and had to bit his tongue to keep from howling. Agron was there, at the end of that corridor, and Nasir could do nothing about it.

     Ashur and the man moved as one, dragging Nasir down one of the passages. He noted the name of the ship assigned to this berth, Trumpet. There were no guards here. Nasir was confused. Ashur was an illegal who had just escaped lockup. He should have had guns trained on him no matter which direction he stepped. But of course the Bill was illegal as well, and Nasir was still thinking like a cop.

     Before he could mull that over, they had reached the ship. Ashur keyed codes into the airlock's exterior control panel. Mere seconds later, the door cycled open and the three men lurched in. Once the lock had sealed behind them, Ashur shoved the other two men away from him. Triumph flared in his eyes and he shook his fists, shouting, "I did it! I got you, you stupid fuck!"

     Nasir stood still, his arms wrapped tightly around himself, whether to hold his emotions in or to keep Ashur out he wasn't sure. Ashur and this other man were his allies only in the context that they were opposed to Batiatus. For all he knew, they could be working for the Amnion. But most certainly they couldn't be working with Agron Niklaus. Nasir never even considered that possibility.

     Needing to put distance between himself and Ashur, but unable to, instead he reached his breaking point. His eyes took on a haunted look, and he cried, "Damn you, Ashur, for everything you did to me!"

      Tears quickly evolved into full fledged sobs, the depths of Nasir's anguish finally boiling over. The anger ran out of him. It had been his last defense. Shudders took over his body, as his rage turned to panic and helplessness. He couldn't let this happen to him again. He'd take his own life before he let Ashur touch him that way again.

     Hugging himself like a lost child, Nasir MornHyl sank to the floor and curled into a ball. His forehead was crusted with blood from where Ashur had slammed him into the wall. Except for breathing and the occasional shuddering gasp, he was silent.

     "Fucking son of a whore," Ashur muttered to no one in particular.

  
      "You mean him?" Milos asked. "Come on Ashur, give the kid a break. How did you expect him to react when he saw you?"

  
      Rounding on Milos, Ashur rasped, "Not him. Niklaus! Captain Goatfucker! He let this happen!"

  
      Moving to Nasir's side, he gestured for Milos to step forward. "Help me move him. We can take him to the bridge until we hear from Niklaus." An familiar pang twisted Ashur's heart as he placed his hands gently under Nasir's shoulders.

  
      Gingerly, he and Milos carried the young man to the bridge. He appeared to have passed out, or fallen asleep. They propped him up in Milos' g-seat, and Ashur strapped him in. It was then that he noticed a blinking red light coming from his comm station. He keyed the commands for playback.

  
      "Captain Ashur Thermopyle of Trumpet, I expect a reply as soon as you receive this message. My security has been breached. You will help me find out what happened and do something about it."

  
      It wasn't an idle threat, but neither was it an imminent one. Batiatus didn't know it had been Ashur who broke Nasir out. But he did know they had spoken to Captain Goatfucker, who was the most obvious candidate for a security breach. The important thing now was that they not let Batiatus know they were back onboard Trumpet.

  
      Ten minutes later, the intercom chimed. "It's Agron," came that maddeningly confident voice. "Let me in."

  
      A spasm ran through Nasir, and his breathing quickened. He shifted and moaned, but his eyes did not open. Ashur moved down to the airlock and unsealed the doors, then retreated further inside, out of the range of any bugeyes.

  
      Agron stood outside, alone. His eyes were dark, and his scars were livid on his pale face. Still, he wore a smile, though it was obviously fake. Putting his fingers to his lips in warning, Ashur motioned Agron inside.

  
      No sooner had the exterior doors closed than Agron dropped the smile, and asked, "Did you get him? Is he here?"

  
      He received a snarl as answer, and he followed Ashur down the corridor to what he assumed would be the bridge. His eyes regained some of their usual smolder and he repeated his question. "Ashur, did you get him or not?" He continued his walk, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw Nasir strapped into a g-seat, his eyes closed tightly while he moaned and thrashed about.

  
      "Fuck, Thermo-pile! You were supposed to rescue him, not scare him into madness! Nasir!" Agron started forward, but his path was blocked by Ashur. Agron tensed, as though he were about to jump at the man. He forced himself to relax. He couldn't allow himself to lose control, not when Nasir was right here, close enough to touch.

  
      "You want him? It's going to cost you." This wasn't Ashur talking of his own free will. His datacore was providing the words that spilled from his mouth. "Your ship. You can kiss it goodbye, because you can't get back to it. There are guards watching it, and you've been barred access. Your only chance to get off this rock alive is to come with me, on Trumpet, and crew for me. But MornHyl doesn't leave this ship."

  
      This time, Agron didn't bother to hold himself back. He launched himself at fucking Thermo-pile, knocking him backwards and landing on top of him on the deck. Drawing back his fist, he slammed it into Ashur's face again and again, until Ashur was able push him off. Agron scrambled to his feet, and used the same move he had on Gnaeus. He raised his impossibly long leg and kicked Ashur right in the temple.

  
      He expected Ashur to crumple to the ground, or at least be stunned. Instead, his enemy moved with incalculable speed, and punched him in the face hard enough to send his head rocking back. Before he could regain his balance, Ashur had driven his shoulder into Agron's chest, and slammed him backwards, the back of his skull cracking hard against the wall.

  
      His head swimming, Agron fell to one knee and tried desperately to get his eyes to focus.

  
      "Niklaus, it's time to make up your mind. Either shit or get off the can. Are you in or out? The truth is I need you. Batiatus is not going to let us just slip away, and Milos isn't experienced enough to help me pilot this ship out of dock while we're being shot at. I need all the help I can get. Say yes, or get off my ship."

  
      Captain's Fancy, lost to him? Everything he had ever worked for, fought for, gone? Where had he gone so wrong? He had nothing left to live for.  
"Agron?" came a small and frightened voice.

  
      Raising his head, his green eyes locked onto the only anchor he would ever need. "Nasir,'' he whispered as he raised his hand towards his love. But Ashur was there again, blocking the way.

  
      "Go, get your people. The ones you can anyway, the ones off wandering the cruise right now because they can't get back on your ship. Bring them here, and we can go. I may need their help as well."

  
      Lifting Agron easily from the floor he began to shove him off the bridge and back down the corridor. The sounds of Nasir screaming for him filled Agron's ears and tore at his heart. "I'm coming back for you," he shouted behind him. "I swear it, Nasir. Just hold on."

  
      Twisting in Ashur's grip, he levelled his gaze at the hateful bastard. "If you fucking touch him, I will kill you. In fact, you better be on fucking point, because I'm gonna kill you the first chance I get."

  
      Ashur didn't respond, he simply cycled open the lock, and pushed Agron through. The he turned back, his boots stomping loudly up the corridor until he reached Milos and Nasir. "I haven't got time for any explanations. We need to be ready. When the time comes, we need to act before the Bill can figure out where you are. As soon as that happens, we're out of options."

  
      Nasir couldn't let go of his fear. It came from too many different places inside of him. Seeing Ashur again had brought back so many memories, the wounds opened once more and bled. And his need to be in Agron's arms was stronger now than ever. He looked up into Ashur's face, and was surprised and confused to find it absent its customary malevolence.

  
      The man who had caused him so much pain gave Nasir a sharp nod. "You need to stop letting yourself be so vulnerable. We've got a whole shitstorm coming towards us, and I don't wanna see it take you out." Ashur raised his hand as though he were going to touch Nasir, who recoiled immediately, the horror etched plainly on his beautiful face.  
Swallowing hard, Ashur instead pointed to the door on the opposite wall. "We should get you to sickbay, make sure you're ok." Stiffly he pulled away, looking around for his second. "Shit, where the hell is Milos?" Too late, he realized the truth. Milos Taverner had left the ship.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron will stop at nothing to be reunited with Nasir. Facing suspicion and dissension, his goal is finally within reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope my audience is still out there somewhere.

  
  
    By the time Trumpet's airlock cycled shut behind him, Agron felt himself coming apart at the seams. His skin was no longer just fair, it was downright pale, and his scars itched like fresh burns. He'd been momentarily stunned when Thermopyle hit him. Hell, his skull could've even been cracked because it sure as fuck hurt bad enough.

    Fuck the Gods, where did Ashur get strength like that from? The rat bastard had been tough the time they had faced one another back on Capua Station, but nothing like this. And the speed! Shit, how could Agron hope to best the fucker when he didn't even have speed on his side anymore?

    Agron Niklaus broke into a run; he was desperate to get back on Captain's Fancy. The familiar corridors would help center him, and give him back the sense of self he had lost somewhere in all this mess.  He took note of the ship i.d.'s as he moved past the access passages, and forced himself to slow when he came to Soar. He'd sooner see himself dead than let any of Lucretia's people witness his panicked state. Besides, whatever else happened, he was going to make that bitch pay.

    Continuing on his way, Agron tried in vain to control the way his scars involuntarily ticked, plastering a predatory grin on his face instead. As he rounded the corner, Captain's Fancy's berth came into view, his brain suddenly filling with fury. Access to his ship was, it would appear, restricted, if the two guards with impact rifles were any indication. One of the men had his left eye replaced with a video prosthesis, and the other was so "enhanced" he almost didn't resemble a man anymore.

    It was too late for him to turn away. They had already spotted him, and were in the process of raising their weapons, traning them on his chest. Agron's head was pounding, and he wondered absently if maybe some shards of skull had somehow found their way into his brain. Pain, anger, and frustration driving him, he walked straight towards the guards as though they meant nothing.

    The man with the bug in his head shifted to block the corridor completely, the other tightening his finger on the firing mechanism of his rifle. Agron had no choice. He stopped, sizing up his opponents, hoping to at least kill one of them before he was taken out.  "Out of my fucking way, now asshole. This is my ship."

    "No can do, Niklaus. We got orders, you been barred," said the main with the bugeye. "Till you settle up with the Bill," he finished.

    For a moment, Agron was sure he was out of options. That he had reached the end of the line having failed Nasir. But then, it dawned on him that while he may be denied access to his ship, he was still allowed freedom on board the station. These men weren't here to arrest him.

    The skin of his scars stretched as he pulled his face into a manic grin. Not bothering to reply to the bastards in front of him, Agron turned and stalked away. He rounded a corner, now out of sight of the sentries, and collided with Mira Vasaczk.

    Placing her hands on his chest to steady herself, Mira looked up at Agron and frowned. Pietros, Lucius, and Pup were all still with her. Good, they had all made back safely.

    "Just the people I was looking for," he said swiftly. "Move it, we've got things to take care of." Agron started to move, taking Mira by the arm and pulling her after him.

    Twisting out of his grip, Mira ground to a halt. "Agron, wait," she gritted at him through her clenched teeth. "If you don't start giving us some answers and explaining things, we are done taking orders. You know what you mean to me, but I can't keep risking Ciro's life this way."

    Agron stood still, his eyes wide with incredulity. His heart beat two or three times while he met the glare in Mira's eyes. She had always been the most loyal of his crew. The brightest and most capable. How was it that they had come to this?

    "You don't want to do this here, Mira," he whispered at her. "I know what I'm doing, but I can't do it alone. I need you. I told you, we have things to take care of."

    He took a step towards her, and the other men shifted their position, moving closer to Mira as though ready to defend her should Agron decide to attack her. As if she needed anyone to defend her: Mira was more than capable of taking a man down on her own. Agron scoffed, and shook his head at them.

    Lazily, he raised his hand to point a finger at them. "You guys haven't got a clue what's going on here. You're fumbling around in the dark, instead of using your heads to keep yourselves and the ship alive. Remember who the real enemy is," he hissed.

    Narrowed, brown eyes stared into Agron's green ones, and he forced himself to soften his gaze, pleading with her. _Trust me, I've never led you wrong before, trust me._

    The moment was broken when Pup gasped, raising his hand to point behind Agron. The captain didn't need to turn to know that one of Batiatus' guards had snuck up on them from behind.

    Not looking away from his command two, Agron raised his eyebrows, silently asking if she was still willing to help him. Mira frowned, and then sighed heavily before pursing her lips in acknowledgment, her decision to trust Agron having been made.

    "Mira," Agron said smoothly. "I'm only going to give you this last order, and then we can call it quits if you still want to. Take this fucker's gun and shove it up his ass."

    Mira moved immediately, but it was a feint. She knew what Agron needed, a distraction. Whirling on his heel, he reached up an arm and snap-punched the guard in the larynx.

    The guard fell to his knees, the gun flying up and out of his hand as he gagged and choked on torn cartilage. Before the man had even gone down all the way, Agron had caught the rifle out of the air and brough the butt down on the back of his head.

    "So what's it going to be?" he asked quietly, a hint of a smile on his face.

    "We're with you," Mira breathed. "Where to?" In her eyes, Agron could see her renewed commitment to him, and he was more than grateful to her.

    "Best decision you've ever made, Vasaczk,'' he answered as he motioned with his head for them to follow him. "Come on, we're heading for Trumpet."

    Sprinting for his destination, Agron ears were filled with his harsh breath and the slam of  boots on the hard ground. Passing back the way he had come, he noted that Soar's docking display flashed red: SECURE FOR UNDOCKING. Arriving at Trumpet's access passage, Pietros shouted out.

    "Agron, there's more guards  coming, a lot of them!"

    The tall man had already been headed down the corridor when he came to a halt, his boots nearly skidding out from under him. Agron reeled, then caught his balance. "Which way are they headed? Captain's Fancy, or here?"

    Lucius was just beginning to catch up. "They'd be here already, 'cept they're hauling some kind of equipment. Could be mining lasers," the old man huffed. He was doubled over, one hand on his chest as he struggled for breath.

    Which meant Batiatus knew where Nasir was. Agron shouted at them, "Move your asses!" and raced the rest of the way down the access passage. Slamming into the airlock, he jammed the heel of his hand against the external intercom.

    "It's Agron. Let me in, I've brought help."

    There was no answer other than the hiss of static. The lock didn't begin the cycle open.  _You bloated son of a bitch! Open the fucking door!_

    "Did I mention there's a platoon of guards headed your way? They've got mining lasers. The Bill means to pry you open like a can of sardines."

    With a whine, the lock began to cycle. Mira shoved her brother in headfirst  before it was even fully open, then dived in after him. Agron nodded at Pietros and Lucius, intending to cover the rear as he was the only one with a weapon. Once they were all inside, Mira keyed the outer door closed and opened the inner before leading them all through.

    "Now what?" Mira questioned, following Agron into the lift.

    "Nasir is here," he muttered. "Just stay quiet, and stay alert." He passed his gaze over each of them, and they all nodded in assent.

    The lift deposited them on the corridor leading to the bridge. Moving with confidence,  Agron led them the rest of the way, the bridge door sliding open smoothly in front of him.

    Because they all knew Thermopyle was a dangerous enemy, they arranged themselves close behind their captain's back. Ashur stood facing them, right arm held aloft with a blaster in hand, his left arm stretched behind his back, keeping Nasir mostly hidden from view. Agron didn't back down from the malice in Ashur's stare, returning it with a glare of his own.

    "Captain Goatfucker," Ashur drawled, remaining resolutely still. "If you think you can just waltz onto my ship with one gun and four lousy crew members and take over, you've got another thing coming."

    Agron looked down at the impact rifle in his hands as though he had forgotten he still had it. He shrugged and tossed it to to Ashur, whose left arm shot out instinctively to catch it.

    Nasir recognized the opportunity and shoved past the hateful bastard, running straight for Agron's open arms. The pair of lovers collided, Agron burying his face in Nasir's long, raven locks, breathing in deeply. Nasir pressed his face to his love's chest, a choked sob escaping his lips as he wrapped his arms around Agron, fingers digging in to the taller man's shoulders.

    "I told you I'd come for you, love,'' Agron whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Nasir's head. The smaller man only nodded, not trusting his voice to reply. Large, protective hands rubbed soothing, comforting circles onto Nasir's back. All the while, Agron never ceased his calming, cooing, sounds in the younger's ear.

    "Shhh, it's ok, Nasir. It's all right love, I'm here. We're together now. I promise you, nothing will ever separate us again. Shhh, no one can hurt you anymore, I'll protect you." Slowly, the smaller body began to cease its shaking, lulled by Agron's soft words and strong hands.

    Then the intercom interrupted them, and a voice blared, "Captain, Thermopyle, open up. We are under orders from Batiatus to come on board and inspect your ship. You are suspected of being in possession of stolen property. You have five minutes to comply, or we will begin cutting our way in."

    Reunion cut short, Agron and Nasir whipped their heads up to stare at Thermopyle. Agron vaguely registered the dampness on the front of his shipsuit, caused by Nasir's tears. "Where the hell is Milos?" he snarled, having just noticed the sniveling little shit's absence.

    Ashur didn't answer that question, instead asking one of his own. "These your people? Who are they, and what can they do?" _A woman, two men, and a kid even younger than MornHyl? This is what Niklaus brought him?_

    "Don't you worry about them. Between the seven of us, we can pull this off. Unless you want to go it alone? Every man for himself?" Agron retorted.

    "Pull what off?" demanded Mira. "What the hell do you bastards have planned?"

    Ashur didn't look at her, choosing instead to level his words at Agron, a malevolent grin on his face. "Oh you'll like this, sister. We're going to blast off this rock, pilot past the guns and those big Amnion tubs, and head for human space."

    Mira's silence was louder than a gunshot. Pup clapped a hand over his mouth, and Pietros took a shuddering breath, as though he might vomit at any moment. Only Lucius spoke, whispering softly, "Oh my aching joints."  
      
      
      
   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the ridiculously long delay! I promise not to let things go this long again, and should have another chapter up before the week is out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events are moving at a rapid pace, and every decision the players make bring them closer to the confrontation.

  
  
Batiatus & Sorus

 

  
    No sooner had Sorus Chatelaine entered her husband's strongroom than he snapped at her, "Have you heard already too? Does everyone on this bloody fucking rock know what those bastards have done to me?"

    Watching Batitatus pace the room was making her head spin, and her anger flared briefly before she pushed it down again. This was how things had always been with Quintus. She loved him dearly, but hers was always the more rational mind between them.

    "You haven't said which bastards you're talking about," she countered politely. There was a reason she had come to see him, problems of her own, but she would hear what he had to say first.

    "Dammit, Sorus. This is your fault! You were in charge of his interrogation. I gave you permission to torture the little cunt if need be! How could you have let this happen?" Batiatus raged.

    "So we're speaking about Nasir," she said with her eyebrow raised. "I'm sorry, darling, but I still don't understand. You said 'bastards,' as in plural. Who else are we talking about?"

    "What the hell are you doing here if you haven't heard then?" he snarled at her. "I need answers, Sorus, not more questions. I have enough of those already!"

    It was becoming obvious to her that she would have to go along with Quintus' little game. "I will tell you why I'm here first, and then, you can tell me what's got you so worked up." Sorus took a deep breath, and whispered, "There's a rumor making the rounds that I am dealing in mutagen immunity drugs. _Me_ , Quintus!"

    She explained how some of her crew members had heard it from a group of people at a nearby table in one of the seedier bars on the cruise. The men had come to her with it immediately, but by the time she sent guards back to pick up the gossipers, they were gone, and no one could tell her who they were.

    "That's why I'm here. Use that damned surveillance for something useful and identify them for me, so that I can get to the bottom of this."

    Batiatus studied his wife, deciding what to say next. "An immunity drug?" he asked slowly. "Are you sure about this?"

    Sorus nodded at him. Coincidence? First Nasir MornHyl starts spouting off about immunity drugs and clandestine operations. But he was just a desperate kid, and he might say anything to get himself out the mess he'd found himself in.

    He began musing out loud. "Then a couple of spacers mention anti-mutagens, and you. All where your people would be able to hear them. Then they disappear, poof! Floated off the rock it would seem. And then," he rounded on her, "then, MornHyl himself goes and disappears." Batiatus waved his arms in the air for emphasis.

    "What?" came  the shocked answer. "What did you say?"

    "Disappears! You fucking heard me. I mean literally fucking disappears, leaving nothing but two guards, both obviously killed by laser fire, and one burned out door lock."

    Even as Sorus was shaking her head and wondering if her husband had lost his mind, she stepped closer. Quintus was facing one of his many boards, typing in instructions lightning quick. Once finished, he pointed urgently at the screen in front of him. The view was of an empty hallway. She recognized it at once as the hall where the cells were located.

    As the video played, it showed the lift doors at one end of the hallway open, empty.  Sorus couldn't be sure it seemed as though there was a smudge in the center of the image, and she lifted her hand to wipe it away. But as she watched, the smudge moved, at the same time that what looked like a strip of light extended from the lift to the guards, who collapsed to the ground.

    Her mouth opened to ask a question, but her husband silenced her with a slash of his hand. He turned back to the keyboard and typed in a few more commands. Now the screen displayed the cell, Nasir MornHyl standing in shock with his mouth open, the scream of a tormented animal pouring from his throat.

    In the next instant, the screen was filled with static, buzzing flies and distortion. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone. The same cell came into view once more, but this time, it was barren. MornHyl was nowhere to be seen.

    "That," she breathed, "is impossible." She swore, and then added, "I think we need to know who started that rumor about me."

    Batiatus frowned at her, "Where? What time?"

    Sorus gave him the name of the bar, and the best estimate she could come up with for the time. This kind of data retrieval didn't take much time, and the playback, once it started, showed her people standing up from a table and making their way toward the exit. The only other occupied table in the vicinity had a woman and three men seated around it. Two had their backs to the camera, but one of the men in plain view had thinning, unkempt white hair and watery blue eyes. The woman was short, with long, dark, hair and large, almond-shaped, chestnut brown eyes.

    From there it was relatively easy to trace the identities, and Sorus' eyes flashed when it was revealed they were part of Agron Niklaus' crew. She suddenly found herself regretting her decision to let him live all those years ago. The satisfaction of humiliating him had not been worth what it was going to cost her now.

    Batiatus began talking again, giving his wife his thoughts on their predicament. Niklaus and Thermopyle were working together, and the kid must be on Ashur's ship. Ashur was the only one who could have taken the boy, because Niklaus had been right there in the office at the time of the abduction.

    "That's not even the half of it. I've got eyes everywhere, and there is not one sign of either Thermopyle or his companion, that little cunt Taverner after they parted ways with Agron. Nothing, they just vanish! Until ten minutes ago, when Taverner exited Trumpet. How he got there and how he got past the cameras I don't know. I have people following him now. Another crew is stationed outside that ship, hailing Thermopyle. If he doesn't answer, I've authorized them to cut their way in."

    Taking her husband's hand, Sorus asked him, "What do you need from me, Quintus?" There were many names people could call her, but no one could ever say she didn't love the man in front of her.

    "Go, fast," he answered her. "You may be my only hope if things go bad. Between your guns and the firepower I've got, maybe it'll be enough to keep us alive." _And if it isn't, at least she'll be safe._

    A lump in her throat, Sorus could only nod before kissing her husband goodbye, and heading for her ship. Billingate had suddenly become more dangerous than a viper pit. Niklaus had seen to that when he began spreading that rumor about her. Perhaps she had underestimated him after all.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Milos Taverner  


    If anyone had asked, Milos Taverner might have admitted he was scared shitless. Heart beating like a jackhammer, he had trouble breathing and keeping his balance. Not even his youth amongst the guttergangs of Earth had prepared him for the fear he experienced after he disembarked Trumpet.

    Men more powerful than himself had left him absent any other choice but to go to the Amnion. Ashur, Agron, even Spartacus fucking Warden had played a part in his demise. He had always known how to play all sides. A small, skinny, weak boy from the slums didn't get out alive without learning how to make the different factions into friends, helping and betraying them all at the same time.

    But now, it would seem he was the one betrayed. Spartacus Warden had sent him here with a job to do, and then changed all the rules on him! He'd been lied to about the reason he and Themopyle were on Billingate, and rescuing this MornHyl kid was going to get him killed. He had nothing left to barter, except the truth.

    The Amnion were the only ones who could ensure his survival. Telling them where the MornHyl kid was would purchase him his freedom, and he could run far from this place, from Earth itself. He could buy his own installation, be his own master. Yes, that sounded just about right.

    Every step he took, he expected Ashur to come after him with lasers firing. Or for Agron to appear out of nowhere with his manic grin and work one of his legendary wonders to stop what was about to happen. No one, however, interfered as he moved through the corridors and rode the lifts to the edge of the installation. Where the enemy was docked.

    Milos had expected questions, or to be asked for identification. Instead, when he pressed the outer com, a voice intoned simply, "You may enter, Milos Taverner." With a hum, the lock cycled open.

    The creature waiting on the other side of the lock was something straight out of one of Milos' worst nightmares. Part alien, part human, and completely terrifying. In its hand was a breathing mask. Its voice was thick and rusty, and it introduced itself as Marc Vestabule.

    Somehow, Milos forced himself to step towards the abomination and accept the breathing mask, the sulfurous air already stinging his eyes.

    Once he had the mask secured and had begun breathing normally again, Vestabule led him further into the ship, to a room with a long table and two chairs.  The creature gestured to one of the chairs and Milos perched himself on the edge of it. He opened his mouth to speak but fell silent with the monstrosity held up a hand.

    "Milos Taverner, we do not know why you have come to us. It is apparent that you are afraid. There is no need for your concerns, as you are welcome among us. You may make your requirements known so that we may discuss how they may be satisfied."

    The truths started to flow from his mouth like water from a sieve. Milos told them everything. Ashur, and what had been to done to him by the UMCP. How the welded cyborg was now working with Agron Niklaus, who was not really just a space pirate, but also a part-time UMCP operative under Gannicus Lebwohl.

    "That kid you wanted so badly - Nasir MornHyl - was taken right out from under your noses! Thermopyle did it! He just walked right into the cell and grabbed him, took him back to his ship, Trumpet."

    What once might have been called a frown crossed the face of Vestabule. "During my life among your kind, I came into direct contact with Captain Thermopyle. The ship I crewed on was hijacked by him. Twenty-eight men and women, myself included, were brought to this very installation and sold to the Amnion. We are quite aware of what kind of man Ashur Thermopyle is."

    He had them! If the Amnion had reason to fear Thermopyle, that was the weakness he would exploit. "If you keep me alive, give me your support, I can stop him. I can use my priority codes, and you can swoop in and get Thermopyle, the kid, Niklaus, all of them!"

    Marc Vestabule regarded the small man steadily, his alien eye unblinking. After a long pause, he walked slowly towards Milos, his human hand sliding to the pocket of his shipsuit. "Your requirements will be satisfied. We will keep you alive. You will have our support. After the events which have taken place on Enablement Station, and here as well, the relationship between your kind and mine must be altered."

    "You require life and support. We require you."

    From his pocket, Vestabule produced a hypo, filled with dark, thick liquid. Flinging himself from the chair with a scream, Milos found nowhere to run. The alien caught him easily, one arm wrapped around his chest like a band of steel. Fear as immeasurable as the gap between the stars gripped Milo as he watched the Amnion pierce his arm and release the mutagens into his blood.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sura Donner  


    Exhausted beyond measure, the Enforcement Division Director sat at her desk an hour after her calamitous meeting with Crixus Veritgus, chewing on her new orders like a piece of gristle. Battered, tired and hungry, Sura's mind felt fuzzy, packed with insulation. Occasionally, fresh blood dripped from her nose, infuriating her all the more. She also had a disaster of staggering proportions on her hands.     

    Glaber was dead, blown to bits and splinters by a kaze in Spartacus' office. The Director had not been present, and as of now, no one knew for sure if the kaze had meant for Spartacus to be the target. No one except Sura. Two kaze attacks, carried out simultaneously on the two men who presumably could stand up to Crassus, and there was no way it was a coincidence.

    People were still running and shouting in the corridors, making way for investigators and more cops still searching for more possible assailants. Too late, UMCPHQ was on high alert.

    Anger made Sura want to pursue the investigation with everything she had in her. But she hadn't been given that choice. She had instead been given orders that sent her away from UMCPHQ, and she hated it. Was Spartacus trying to protect her as though she were some fragile treasure instead of the cop she was?     

    On the outside, the orders were simple. Take command of the first available UMCP warship and proceed to the asteroid belt. Watch for and respond to any developments from the direction of Billingate.

    In this case, the first available ship was Punisher, a cruiser that had just arrived from a six month assignment wrangling pirates out beyond Vesuvius Industrial. The vessel and crew under her command would be battle-scarred, ill-equipped and exhausted, just like herself.

    A knock on her office door stole her away from her thoughts,and Sura called out, "Who's there?" She was already reaching for the gun strapped at her lower back when a voice responded, "Sura, it's me, Spartacus."

    Giving him permission to enter, Sura debated next on what to say, but when she opened her mouth, the words came naturally. "I got your orders. The ship is nearing dock. They should be here in about two hours, and once I brief Captain Oenomaus, we can be on our way back out."

   _All I still need is a reason - one that makes sense and that I can believe in._

    "Good," was all her answered her. He was momentarily silent, before saying gently, "I didn't expect kazes, Sura, and I definitely didn't expect to lose Glaber. Despite our differences, despite my dislike for the man, he was good at his job. And he didn't deserve that end."

    Spartacus would have continued talking, but Sura interrupted him. "Spartacus, listen to me. My job is here. I'm ED, which means we deal with threats, none greater than one against our Director's life! What can possibly be so important on Billingate that you feel you have to send me to deal with it, instead of letting me stay here and keeping this place safe from future attacks?"

    He was silent for a long time. So long that she thought he might not answer her and just walk away instead. He ran his hand through his short hair, and then pinched the bridge of his nose. "You might think this strange, and I'm not going into details here. But I have reason to suspect," he stumbled over his words, as if already regretting his decision to say this, "that Nasir MornHyl may survive what's happened to him. He may get away from this alive. If he does, I want someone there to make sure he stays that way, someone I trust. That person is you, Sura."

    She'd been concentrating so hard, she hadn't even noticed she was standing until Spartacus came around the desk and took her in his arms, pressing his nose to her hair, inhaling deeply. Unthinking, Sura reached up and embraced him as well, arms tightening around him to the point of discomfort. Spartacus pulled back, and pressed a soft kiss to her slightly parted lips.

    "Good luck," he whispered, before turning and striding from the room with his hands balled into fists at his side. When Sura glanced down, she saw bright red spatters on the hardcopy of her orders, stains from her earlier nosebleed. She shivered, feeling the crimson drops were a warning, but of what, she did not know.  
      
      
  
   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be mostly about our boys and how their reunion went.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans to escape Billingate are finalized. During that time, Agron and Nasir steal a few moments to be alone, each word and touch precious because time may be running out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sexual situations.

  
  
    Ashur stood and watched Agron hold Nasir, and tried to find some way around his protocols in order to murder the bastard. It wasn't just that Captain Agron bloody Goatfucker had somehow managed to win again, taking back the only thing that gave Ashur even a spark of hope. It was intolerable that Agron had brought his people to the ship, and that Ashur had to accept them because he needed the help. 

    Still, his datacore issued instructions, and Ashur obeyed them, ruled by his zone implants just the way he had ruled Nasir. Agron's tenuous link to the UMCP made him untouchable for Ashur. Add to that the fact that their ultimate goal was one and the same, rescue Nasir MornHyl, and that took precedence over everything else. 

    Pacing inside his mind like a caged predator, he snapped at Agron. "So who the fuck are they, and what are they good for?"

    The chime of the external intercom interrupted them. From outside the ship, a voice barked, "Captain Thermopyle, if you don't open up, we will cut you open. You hear me? I said open up! You have one minute left!"

    Having been through far too much already, Nasir flinched involuntarily. His eyes pulled away from Agron and came to rest on Ashur's face, so full of fear and revulsion. Bruises distorted his beautiful features. 

    With the push of a button, Ashur silenced the speaker, and turned back to Niklaus and his people. "Come on, Agron, I'm waiting. These poor bastards look like you just picked them up at random from one of the sleeps. How are they gonna help us?"

    Agron's gaze turned sharp, but when he spoke his voice was unnaturally soft, likely for Nasir's benefit. "Ashur, those guards are not bluffing. We saw the mining lasers. Don't you think you need to take care of that?"

    Rolling his eyes, Ashur leaned over and typed a command into his board. Seconds later, a recording of his voice began playing over the speakers. 

    "This is Captain Ashur Thermopyle. Apologies, but I am currently not aboard. In order to protect the safety of my ship and crew or associates, I have rigged Trumpet to self-destruct at the first signs of forced entry. Codes to enter and leave the ship safely are known to my associates. Codes to disable the self destruct are known only to myself. Message repeats. This is Captain-"

    Whirling around to face the people on the bridge, he announced. "That's on automatic. Thanks to you and that little cunt Milos, Batiatus thinks I'm here. Of course, he can't be sure, which buys us some time."

    Still not answering Thermopyle's question, Agron instead scanned the bridge. "So where is Milos?" he asked.

    Suddenly, the woman who had boarded the ship with Agron pushed past him, rolling her eyes at him as she did. She was obviously exasperated, and knew that if left to the two enemies turned allies, things would never get moving. Agron didn't bother to try and stop Mira, it would be pointless. 

    "Thermopyle. I'm Mira Vasaczk, command two of Captain's Fancy. That," she said as she jerked her thumb at the tall, slim man next to her, "is Pietros Mackern, data one." Next she nodded at the tired looking old man. "Lucius Caelius, ship's engineer. Ciro Vasaczk is engineering two, and also my brother. Whatever you need us to do, we can make it happen. Just get us off this fucking station."

    With a grimace, Ashur nodded for his new crew members to follow him, presumably so he could show them the ship and equipment, most of which was latest generation and top of the line. 

    Agron called out, stopping him. "Ashur, where are the cabins? I need to get Nasir somewhere he can rest for a bit. 

    Growling, Ashur changed direction, and muttered, "Might as well all of you follow me since you'll be here awhile. Come on, fuckers."

    Trailing behind Ashur, they were led to the lift and down, exiting into a low-lit corridor with doors along one side. "Take your pick. The stateroom at the end is mine, but all the others are up for grabs." Facing Agron with a pained look, he continued, "Suppose you and the kid will only be needing one cabin, right?"

    Nasir answered for them both, "Yes, we'll take this one," indicating the cabin closest to the lift. "Any locks on the doors?"

    Ashur shook his head in the negative, and Nasir turned away from him, taking Agron's hand and leading him into the cabin, leaving Ashur staring after them with his eyes bulging and his lips pressed in a tight line. 

    Once the door slid shut behind them, Nasir sagged against the wall and covered his face with his hands. He took several deep breaths, fighting back the sudden wave of exhaustion that had come upon him. The young man couldn't believe it. He was free, and reunited with the love of his life, but now hiding on his once-tormentor's ship. What had his life come to?

    Three long strides was all it took Agron to cross back to Nasir and enfold him in his muscular arms. "Hey, love," he cooed. "Come here, little man." He pressed a kiss to Nasir's head, hoping that his young lover could feel the strength he was trying to impart. "I told you I'd get you back. We're together now, and this time, I won't let anything come between us again."

    Snuggling deeper into the warm, safe, arms, Nasir sighed, and then whispered, "I was so scared, Agron."

    "Shh, it's ok," Agron responded. He put his hand under Nasir's chin and tilted the young man's face to his. Gently, he touched their lips together in a soft kiss. The kiss was meant to be sweet and chaste, but when Nasir's wide, brown eyes met the fire of Agron's gaze, he felt his despair vanish. 

    Nasir swallowed hard, "Please Agron, I need you."

    Not wasting time, Agron pressed his lover's small body back, trapping him there against the wall. His hands came to rest on either side of Nasir's head, and he leaned down and kissed the side of Nasir's mouth, tongue slipping out to lick at the corner. Nasir moaned and tilted his head up further, his own mouth seeking out Agron's. 

    Finally, they backed away, harsh gasps coming from each of them. Staring into Agron's eyes, Nasir saw only love. He smiled at his giant of a man, and stood on his tiptoes to again capture Agron's willing mouth in a rough kiss, full of teeth and tongues. Agron groaned when Nasir's arms clasped around the taller man's neck, pulling him closer before moving back down. Small fingers traced the muscles beneath Agron's clothing, then slid further southward to palm the half-erect cock straining against the snug confines of fabric. 

    Disentangling himself from his eager partner, Agron tugged on Nasir's hand, moving him backwards towards the bed at the other end of the room. Nasir giggled then, his hand coming up to cover his mouth. At the questioning look from Agron, Nasir spoke, "Mira was right, you know. You do look amazing in that tight, black shipsuit. But I don't think we have a lot of time, so take it off, now," Nasir demanded. 

    The captain shrugged himself free of the offending shipsuit, and seat back on the bed. His hard cock throbbed as he watched Nasir's body reveal itself as well. Then the smaller man was joining Agron on the small bunk. Raising his hand, Agron trailed a finger down Nasir's nose, then began to circle his full lips. Nasir sighed as the finger continued its path around his mouth. His lips parted and he snaked his tongue out to lave at Agron's digit, sucking it into his mouth and biting down none too gently. 

    A whine escaped Nasir when Agron pulled his finger away unexpectedly, reaching around Nasir and pulling him onto his lap, hands settling around slim hips. Slowly, the big man worked Nasir's mouth open, sliding his tongue in, reveling in his lover's taste. Pulling back, he again licked the corners of Nasir's mouth, then taking that, full, sensuous bottom lip between his teeth, nipping playfully. 

    When Nasir reached down between their bodies, Agron gasped, feeling his cock being enveloped in hot pressure. Nasir wrapped his hand around Agron's swollen member, rubbing his own against it, creating delicious friction. A harsh breath burst from the larger man, as nimble, skilled fingers worked at the head of his heated flesh, smearing the precome leaking from both of them. 

    Held in place by Agron, Nasir moaned again, arching his spine and throwing his head back, exposing his throat to his lover's sharp teeth. Taking advantage of Agron's strong grip, he used both hands to stroke their aching cocks together, while rocking his hips in time with his movements. He set a fast and brutal pace, both of them eager to take their pleasure, the knowledge it could be their last time together spurring them on. 

    The two men rutted against each other, panting and gasping as they moved closer and closer to the limit. Leaning back against the pillows, Agron pulled Nasir over him, the young man's hair falling like an obsidian pane around them. 

    Obscene, exquisite noises were coming from the smaller man, and Agron could feel his breath quickening. The larger man's muscles were taut with desire; he couldn't last much longer. He bent his head forward and sank his teeth into the juncture between Nasir's shoulder and neck.

    The young man hissed in _painpleasure_. His hands tightened, his cock jerked and spasmed, hot, thick, white fluid shooting over his hands and his lover's stomach. Bucking his hips furiously, Agron cried out as he came, hard as Nasir milked his cock.

    Hearts pounding, breath coming rough and harsh, the lovers were lost. It took several moments for them to come down from their euphoria. As they calmed, Nasir leaned down and kissed Agron gently, lips ghosting over the other man's mouth, his eyes, his nose. 

    Agron smiled, and growled at his little man playfully, rolling over onto his side and dragging Nasir down to face him. He kissed those luscious, ripe lips fully, until the younger man was giddy with breathlessness. "You are so beautiful," he whispered. "I love you, little man."

    Content and sated, Nasir sighed, drawing closer to Agron. "I know. I love you, too."

    They could both easily have fallen to slumber then, Agron smoothing Nasir's long locks comfortingly, the sound of each other's heartbeats a backdrop. Luck was not with them, however, because at that moment a soft, tentative knock sounded on the door. Briefly, Nasir wondered if whoever it was had waited until the sounds of their lovemaking had quieted before disturbing them. 

    A rumble began to sound in Agron's chest before Nasir shushed him, and asked quietly, "Who's there?"

    "Captain, Ensign MornHyl, apologies. It's me, Pup. My sister needs you guys out here, especially you Cap."

    Nasir let the boy know they'd be out in a moment, and with a groan of frustration, Agron rose from the bed and walked to the bathroom, coming back with a towel so that his lover could clean his body off and dress. At the door, they stopped and faced each other, lips grazing together tenderly before exiting the room. Hand in hand, they made their way to the bridge.

    The scene they came upon was a tense one. Mira had adopted a familiar pose, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face as she spoke with Ashur. 

    "You make it sound a bit too easy," she said through her clenched teeth. 

    Grimacing at her, Ashur shot back. "There are only three dangers as I see 'em. The Amnion might shoot us before we can shoot them. The Bill's guns are another threat, and maybe another ship out there."

    "Soar could do it," Agron chimed in as he walked. "Shoot us, I mean. She was set for undock just a few minutes ago."

    Everyone turned to look at the newcomers. Mira looked worried, and Pietros and Ciro both clearly expected Agron to come in and solve all the problems as he always had before. The only one who didn't seem to care one way or the other what happened was Lucius, who faced forward stoically. 

    Squaring his shoulders, Agron continued. "I can help with that. I need to talk to Captain's Fancy." He faced Mira then. "Laeta doesn't know what to do. I don't think she even knows I've been barred from the ship. As long as she thinks she's still waiting for us, she'll sit right where she is, paralyzed."

    Ashur wanted to bark. _Fuck you, asshole. You'll talk to your ship again over my cold corpse._ His datacore however took the suggestion from Agron as an order from a UMCP officer in need of aid. Helpless to stop himself, he pointed at Milos' station. "You can access comms from there."

    Nasir felt Agron's squeeze his hand once before letting go and sliding into the command two's seat. His fingers raced across the keyboard, addressing his ship entirely in code. "Done." Agron keyed the board off and stood. 

    He crosses his arms and faced Ashur with his customary grin. "There's still one thing you have to explain. Where the fucking hell is Milos?"

    Though nausea twisted his gut, Ashur shrugged as if it didn't matter. "I'm not sure, but I believe he's gone to the Amnion."

    Agron and his people were stunned into shock. 

    Since departing UMCPHQ, Ashur had gained only two things he actually wanted. One was to set eyes on Nasir again. The other was that he'd gotten rid of Milos Taverner. Spartacus Warden, may the Gods rain shit and piss upon him, hadn't planned this mission well enough, because that one victory was likely going to cost Ashur more than he could bear. 

    "That means he's probably been turned into one of them by now. They know everything he knew," Mira said, voicing the concern they were all feeling, her eyes boring into Ashur's. 

   _It means they know my priority codes. It means they know how to turn me off._

    Arguing broke out amongst the group, everyone turning and pointing fingers, harsh words issuing forth from every mouth. 

    Weighted with false calm, Ashur shouted. "Enough! Shut the fuck up, all of you! I'm only going to say this one more time. We need to get this moving along now, or we'll lose our chance."  
      
      
   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, events come crashing together, and things may never be the same again.


	10. Chapter 10

Trumpet

 

     Belted into their g-seats in front of their stations, the new crew of Trumpet waited with bated breath. In a matter of minutes, Ashur would give the order, and shortly after that, they'd either make a getaway, or be blasted into nonexistence by any number or enemies.

     Nasir was strapped to the bunk in his cabin, the false sleep of the zone implant control keeping him safe from the gap sickness he suffered from. As much as it killed Agron to have to do it, if Trumpet was going to have to burn heavy g to escape, the whole crew would be safer with him this way.

     On the auxiliary bridge, Mira and Pietros held their hands poised above their boards. Pietros was breathing raggedly, and trying desperately to get his nerves under control. They all knew that a careless mistake from any one of them could mean the difference between life and death.

     "Hey, Pete. Calm down. We've been in worse situations before this," Mira said softly. She smiled sympathetically at Pietros when he turned back to look at her with eyes on the verge of a panic attack.

     "Oh yeah? When was that?" Pietros intended for it to come out conversationally, but instead, even to his own ears, it sounded like he was pleading with his command two to come up with something to set his mind at ease.

     Before Mira could think of something to say, the speakers crackled to life, and Milos Taverner's voice sliced through the silence. Devoid of emotion, and speaking monotonously, he began. "Ashur Thermopyle, I have a message for you. Listen, Joshua. This is a Jericho priority order. Stop what you are doing. If any of Captain Niklaus' people are on board Trumpet, you will turn and kill them immediately."

    In the millisecond it took for Ashur to move his fingers to his belts, a new window opened up in his head. He could hear Agron shouting from the co-pilot's seat beside him, demanding to know who Joshua was and what the fuck was a Jericho order, but his programming dismissed it.

    Ashur heard his programming speak to him, in the deep, rich voice that belonged to Spartacus Warden. _You are no longer Joshua. Jericho priority has been suspended. Your new access code name is Isaac. Your priority code is now Gabriel._ And in that moment, Ashur Thermopyle was set free from Milos. Spartacus or Gannicus Lebwohl must have seen this coming. The fuckers had planned for the eventuality.

     Over the intercom, he barked at Mira. "Give me an open channel to that Amnion ship." Once it was opened, Ashur growled into the mic, "Joshua isn't here anymore, you bastards. And if I were you, you alien fucks, I'd think about running back to your own space, because I will kill you all if you stick around here."

     "Joshua?" Agron questioned tightly. "Jericho? The fuck is all that about?"

     "It doesn't matter," the welded man grumbled, before a vicious smile spread across his face. With a jerk of his chin, he indicated the readouts in front of him. "Looks like your girl's made her move. Now we make ours."

    Eyes flicking to the screens in front of him, Agron watched the video feed as Captain's Fancy ripped loose of her berth. Trailing sparking, power lines and torn moorings, his ship drifted away from the dock as though she were dead.

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Captain's Fancy

 

     The emptiness of the data and engineering stations nagged at Laeta Corregio's senses. Captain's Fancy was incomplete, part of her crew missing, the most important part though being Agron, her friend and captain. Even though she was following his instructions, she wouldn't be able to help blaming herself if something should go wrong.

      "Operations is screaming at us," Lugo barked at her from comms.

     "Ignore them," the redhead ordered. "Have you sent Agron's message to that listening post?"

     The burly man nodded, then croaked out a surprisingly small, "Yes."

     "Concentrate on the ships, then. All of them. We're going to be hearing something from one of them soon.''

     Lugo frowned at her, not understanding what they were doing or why they were doing it. "What am I supposed to be listening for?"

     "Agron's old priority codes. Tell me the second you hear them, what the exact orders are."

     While Lugo hunched over his console, tapping furiously at the keys, Laeta checked in with the rest of her crew at the various stations. She gave orders to helm, place Captain's Fancy between Soar and Billingate itself, making it as dangerous as possible for any one of their current enemies to fire without hitting another.

     What had started as a whispering in her ears had graduated to a full fledged roar. Laeta grimaced as her stomach twisted, her screens displaying tracking data on Soar, and the Amnion Calm Horizons. Slowly, Soar lumbered toward the alien warship, Captain's Fancy steadily maneuvering into position.  
 

     "Laeta," Lugo called out roughly. "Here it comes."

     The message came from Calm Horizons, invoking Agron's old codes. It instructed Captain's Fancy to shit down her drive and kill all power to targ and weapons. Faster than she would have thought possible, Laeta hit the overrides which disabled both systems. The command three took a few harsh breaths, then felt her fists unclench.

     "They think they've got us," she whispered harshly. "They think we're dead. Now we can really get to work."

     Perfectly still at her console Laeta waited for more orders. As soon as the Amnion were certain those codes had worked, they'd send more orders. "I need noise," she said suddenly. "Emission chaos, garbled transmission, whatever we can put out. I want us to look exactly like a ship trying to figure out what the hell just went wrong. We need so much noise and confusion that those bastards won't be able to tell the difference when we power back up."

      Drawing on all her reserves of self control, Laeta resisted the urge to demand premature reports from her crew. But as the pressure began to build in her chest, she found it harder and harder to stop herself. Just when she felt like she was about to burst from the pressure, Lugo's voice interrupted her thoughts.

     "The two Amnion ships and Soar are yelling at each other. I can't make it all out, but it sounds like Tranquil Hegemony is gearing up to fire on Trumpet. She's still in dock, so Soar is threatening to return fire with that proton cannon. I think she's protecting the installation."

     "All right, start powering up, quickly. I don't want these bastards to know what hit them," Laeta ordered confidently.

     "Amnion are charging their guns," Saxa shouted. "They're not fucking around this time. They're going to blast Trumpet to shit."

     Laeta's ruse was about to be discovered. She knew her target was Soar. Agron had ordered her to kill that ship no matter what. But what fucking good would that do if it cost them Agron, and Mira and the others? Trumpet wouldn't survive a hit from such close range. With the roaring in her ears, Laeta Corregio took control of helm from her board and directed them back the way they had come, facing Billingate instead of heading away from it.

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Trumpet

     As Ashur and Agron made last second preparations to depart Billingate, two separate blasts rocked the small ship. It was too sudden and abrupt to be understood. Agron's brain couldn't keep up with it consciously, but years of experience identified what was happening.

     Calm Horizons sent a blast at Captain's Fancy, hitting her. The first ship must hot have had enough time to charge the proton cannon, because the blast only crippled Agron's ship. At nearly the same instant, Captain's Fancy rained all her lasers and matter cannon fire down on Tranquil Hegemony.

     The first shot must have affected the targ of the second ship by a fraction of a degree, because the Amnion ship didn't suffer a direct hit. Her side was ripped open, Trumpet's pick ups carrying back the sound of wailing klaxons and warning sirens. She was hurt, but not too badly.

"Niklaus, let's go! We have to go now! As soon as that ship seals that hole and reboots the system, they're gonna waste us."

     Somewhere in the back of his mind, Agron could hear Ashur bellowing at him, but he could do nothing more than stare, open mouthed and wide eyed at the readouts and video screens. Thrust flaming, Captain's Fancy streaked down like a comet. Lasers caught her as she plummeted, but they were too late, and she slammed straight into damaged warship. Both vessels melted into fire and debris.

     Had Agron not been belted into his seat, he would have fallen over. The sight of his ship dissolving into nothingness sent a shock wave through his entie body, a cry of anguish escaping his throat. "No, Laeta," he choked through his tears, his long fingers reaching toward the screens, and then pulling back as if the fiery images singed him. Captain no more, Agron felt the world spinning uncontrollably around him. Laeta, Lugo, Saxa, too many dead to be numbered.

     " -Calm Horizons. So is Soar. We still have to get out of here." Ashur's voice was coming to Agron from very far away. The hateful bastard was toggling controls, flipping switched, trying to navigate them away from Billingate. "I can't do this by myself! Niklaus forget about her, she's gone! I said-"

     "I heard you," Agron panted. "I'll do it. What do you need?" His eyes were still streaming tears and his voice came in wet gasps, but he fought to do his job.

     Following Ashur's orders, his heart a hardened lump in his chest, Agron plotted a course for Calm Horizons. He rubbed his hands over his eyes, the heels of his palms pressed roughly against his scars. The surge of acceleration pushed him back slightly in his seat as the thrusters took over.

     "This is Captain Thermopyle," Ashur announced into the pick up. "Trumpet to Amnion defensive Calm Horizons. Do not fire. I repeat, do not fire. My ship has no offensive weapons, I cannot hurt you." Now that was a fucking lie if Agron had ever heard one.

     "I have prisoners I wish to trade for safe departure. I am prepared to offer Agron Niklaus and Nasir MornHyl in exchange for permission to re-enter human space. The prisoners mean nothing to me. You can have them if you let me go."

     No sooner had Ashur silenced the pick up than Agron was unbuckling himself, prepared to attack. "You son of a whore!"

    "Shut up and listen!'' Ashur barked. "Nobody's going anywhere. See all those ships headed this way? Those are human vessels, and if they're headed our way I'm gonna guess Batiatus is sending them after us. So I'm gonna give you two orders. Try not to fuck it up.

     "First time you hear **_now_** , veer away and burn. I don't give a shit which direction, just away from those ships. I'm bleeding power for the shields, so she isn't gonna wanna go max. Push her into the red if you have to.

     "When I say **_now_** again, we're gonna need one of those blink crossings you're so fucking famous for. Now can you handle that, or do I need to do it myself? In which case, what the fuck do I need you for?"

     Swallowing down his grief, Agron nodded once. He focused on the readouts in front of him. From the bridge speakers, many different voices were speaking at once. Human captains identifying themselves, ordering Trumpet to shut down or be fired upon, the Amnion superseding those orders, requesting the human vessels back away. The aliens were more than desperate to get their hands on Agron and Nasir.

     It would seem Ashur's subterfuge worked. One good lie was certainly worth a thousand truths. Agron had chosen his new heading, and all the indicators showed green. Nasir's life depended on him being ready, and executing Ashur's orders with precision. He'd lost Captain's Fancy, and it was fucking tearing him apart, but he still had something to fight for.

     Cutting through the voices being broadcast over the speakers, Agron spoke in a strained voice. "This isn't going to be easy." A thin, sheen of sweat stood out on the pale skin of his forehead, but his hands remained steady on his instruments. "No matter how far off we veer, one of those bastards is bound to have targ that can track us. We'll need thirty seconds to gather enough speed for an effective blink crossing. In that time, every asshole out there will have more than enough time to hit us."

     Harshly, Ashur drawled, "Then I guess we need a diversion. Be ready. I'm cutting this fine." A shout that Ashur was unable to voice filled his mind, born of a fear that his zone implants refused to acknowledge. Instead, they forced him to make his move. "Now."

     Agron slapped at keys with his open palms, and both men were slammed back in their seats. As the ship adjusted course, they were jostled sideways. Trumpet shot towards her new heading on the fringes of human space.

     Three seconds later, a blast tore through the heart of Billingate, thanks to Ashur's first hidden actions upon arrival at the installation. The fusion generator that ran all of Billingate exploded, producing a destructive force strong enough to crack open the station.

     Rock and rubble shot through space in every direction. In a matter of seconds, the debris storm would catch Trumpet, shred her shields like old cloth, and reduce the ship to scrap metal. The ships closest to the station had already been punched to pieces by blast.

     "Now!" Ashur shouted once more.

     Struggling against g and his restraints, Agron stabbed at his console. Scant seconds before the shock wave hit her, Trumpet plunged into the gap, leaving destruction and death in her wake.


End file.
